


Betrayal

by BSplendens



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Dark Energon, Eventual Smut, Flashbacks, Happy Ending, Heavily implied rape/noncon, Hurt/Comfort, Maybe - Freeform, Medical Procedures, PTSD, Rape Recovery, Tumultuous Middle, but everything else is, dark start, like the actual rape isn't shown, traumatic memories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-05-08 07:29:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 34,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5488784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BSplendens/pseuds/BSplendens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Megatron's mind has been fraying for a long time, thanks to the dark energon drenching his spark chamber, and he's finally snapped.<br/>Unfortunately, Soundwave happened to be in the room at the time.</p><p>THIS WORK IS CURRENTLY BEING EDITED.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shattered

**Author's Note:**

> This will eventually work out okay, but it is going to be quite unhappy for awhile. Bad things have happened and will continue to happen. There will probably be some depression and unhealthy behavior. Tags will be added as needed. Please let me know if I need to tag anything else, especially if it's a warning.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It begins. Soundwave finds himself out in the desert, bleeding and helpless, discovered by Autobots. Things do not go as expected from there, which is fortunate, because expectations are mostly of pain and destruction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited!

"So, what- you just found him like this?" 

 

"Yeah, we didn't do- well,  _anything._ Bumblebee tried to get closer to him, tried to help him not bleed out, but he- well, he screamed like something that I'm fairly sure is literally out of someone's nightmare. Not like anything I've heard, ever," Raf contributes, eyes very wide indeed behind his glasses as he watches the panting mech. "What did you say he sounded like, Bee?" 

/Sparkeater. Clearly isn't one, but he doesn't want me near him. And I'm not about to argue with a mech who screeches like that, especially since he's still-/ pausing, Bumblebee gestures to the tentacles writhing across the sand like serpents, still crackling bits of energy despite their owner's weakness. /-that. I'm not gettin' near him. In fact, I'm going to take Raf and go over there. You work your medic field voodoo and get him calmed down./

 

"Yeah, good plan. Go on- stop scarin' him, get outta the way," Ratchet orders, then slowly approaches the spymaster, servos raised and voice as soft as he can manage. He engages his "field voodoo" as well, a soft, steady pulse of _medic/reassurance/calm_ meant to soothe his patient. Or at least get the mech to stop electrocuting the sand. "Soundwave, look at me. Hey- optics on me, they're leavin', you need to be lookin' at me. I am not going to hurt you, understand? I can see that you're hurting, and I know you don't want me near you, but you are going to bleed out if I don't come over there and help you. So- I  _am_ coming over there for a scan and a visual exam, and then-" 

He's about to threaten to handcuff Soundwave to get him holding still, but changes his mind when he sees the look in the spymaster's optics. Not defiance, not rebellion- open, desperate, despairing  _terror._ Soundwave's optics are open as wide as they go, his fangs are parted and bared in something between panting and a shaky attempt at bravado, and he keens in pain every time he has to move. More than that, his thighs are clawed up, and energon is pooling in the sand beneath his hips as he tries to get away- practically sprawled on his front, supporting Laserbeak with one arm and himself with the other, trying to edge backwards and accomplishing absolutely nothing.

He looks like a wounded bird, and Ratchet's attitude drops out of "dealing with injured enemy" into "dealing with terrified victim" in a sparkbeat. Armor lowering almost submissively, rumbling a deep, near-subsonic engine purr, still pulsing his field softly but layering in  _reassurance/shh-shh/I-am-here_ that goes beyond merely protocols. Dammit- he's never had any real ire for Soundwave, not worse than the rest, and this is- this is  _bad._ He actually feels  _sorry_ for the crumpled heap of spymaster, and it probably shows in his attitude as he raises both servos. "Easy, Soundwave... I am not going to hurt you. Let me scan you- we'll just start with that, shall we?" 

 

Soundwave skreels a noise that's more painful than threatening at Ratchet, curling into himself as much as he can to help him shield Laserbeak's frame, but doesn't try to bring his datacables towards the medic. He isn't about to risk Ratchet's ire by doing that, not in this state- he's not going to kid himself, he couldn't win. He could shock Ratchet a few times, but there's another Autobot just out of sight, and he doesn't have the energy to put anyone out of commission for even a moment. Not that he could escape even if he managed it. So he doesn't fight, but he doesn't  _obey,_ either, he just stares at Ratchet and tries not to look as vulnerable as he feels. Which is... incredibly so, especially as he feels the crackle of the scan run over his frame. 

 

Ratchet runs a slow, detailed scan, then pops open the panel on his arm that hides his scanner display, clearly showing it as he moves closer to Soundwave. "You wanna see? Keep those cables away from me, and I'll get over there where you can see the results. Deal, mech?" he asks, then edges closer until he's sitting just in front of the spymaster. And has to fight not to at least help him up. "There-  _this_ is why you need to settle those cables down and let me  _help you._ You've got enough internal damage that it's not gonna read clearly until you uncurl, you probably aren't going to be able to walk again unless someone puts that leg back the way it's supposed to be, and we both know something is badly wrong with any avian symbiote that isn't moving. Now- I am going to come over there and check if your optics are tracking right. You don't need to like it, and you can snarl at me all you want, but you need to hold still, follow whatever I hold up with your optics, and  _not_ bite my fingers off. Clear?" 

Soundwave doesn't acknowledge him by much, but the spymaster does pointedly look away from him, a gesture of submission among most. That works, so Ratchet closes the final distance, kneeling in front of his patient, and ever-so-gently supports Soundwave's helm with one servo. Lifting the other servo, he moves one finger back and forth to be sure both optics track right, noting that Soundwave  _does_ cooperate here- though possibly out of instinct. His optics (understandably) aren't perfectly focused, but they track in line, and the slit pupils adjust evenly when Ratchet casts a shadow with his servo. "Good- everythin' as good as I can expect, given the situation. Now -and I am not going to reach further until you answer- may I touch your stomach? I need to get a look at those gashes." 

_And I ain't about to reach towards your stomach, your hips, and your symbiote in one motion unless you let me._

 

 _No._ Ratchet may not.

Soundwave hisses at Ratchet, drawing away as much as possible, and makes one final, shuddering attempt to get to his pedes. It  _works,_ to everyone's shock including his own, but no amount of willpower can get him walking. One leg is badly twisted, just about every joint dislocated, and the other is clawed up. He might have been able to stay standing on a more firm surface, but there's no way he can  _walk,_ and the sand has him collapsing for lack of support- curling in on himself in an effort to shield Laserbeak from impact.

Except there's no impact, because he doesn't hit the ground. He hits  _Ratchet,_ who is suddenly standing, both arms around his frame and keeping him upright. Taken aback, Soundwave freezes up, then repeats the recording of a Sparkeater's cry that sent Bumblebee leaping back. It tends to pull at instincts and can almost  _force_ someone to retreat if used right, but it doesn't work here, and neither does dragging the claws on his unoccupied servo down Ratchet's arm. Not that he can do any damage beyond the cosmetic, but it's  _satisfying,_ frag the medic holding him. Or... maybe not so much frag Ratchet, it's... fairly nice to not be driving sand into his wounds. Even if there is a servo on his aft- at least that's by necessity. Optics dimming, Soundwave whines and focuses on holding Laserbeak close, trying to pretend he isn't  _shaking_ at being held so close to someone. 

 

 

Ratchet sighs, shaking his helm, and glances back over his shoulder at where he knows Bumblebee is waiting. "Bumblebee, take Rafael and leave. Go and tell Optimus what's happening, tell him to get a groundbridge ready but not send it-  _now._ No arguments,  _get going,_ " he orders, carefully lowering himself to the ground, and keeps Soundwave in his lap to keep him out of the sand. "Easy, Soundwave- hold still. Listen to me, alright? I know you hurt, but you listen to me. You need help, or you are going to bleed out and die. I am not going to allow you to die, alright? So- you can either keep fighting me until you pass out, and then I'll try and repair you, or you can give me information  _before_ you pass out and I'll use it to properly repair you. So- are you gonna help me?" 

It takes a moment for Soundwave to respond, but Ratchet earns a tiny nod from the spymaster crumpled into his lap, even as those narrow claws dig further into his forearm. Humming softly, he brings one servo up against Soundwave's upper back, trying to hold him still and keep him from moving too much and hurting himself. "Good. Now- those claw marks in your stomach tell me who did this, and my questions are based on that. First, were you exposed to dark energon, or contaminated vein-energon?" 

A tiny helm-shake- good. "Next question, and this one's important- is that energon under you comin' from somewhere more personal than your inner thighs?" 

Soundwave tenses up and  _squirms_ at the question, but only for a moment, then slumps limp again and shuts his optics- answer enough. 

"All right... I understand. Last question, Soundwave, stay with me. I am going to need to repair whatever's damaged, and I need to clean your wounds out, since I don't have enough data on what fluids can transmit dark energon. And I need to do that as soon as possible, which means you are likely going to be unconscious, so- do I have your permission to touch your valve, for medical purposes  _only,_ while you're unconscious?" 

 

No no no no  _no-_

A jolt of adrenaline runs through him, and Soundwave claws at Ratchet's frame for just an instant as he tries to  _get away_ from the very  _suggestion,_ then his injuries catch up with him and he goes still again- this time tense, anticipating a punishment for trying to escape, or at the very least some sort of further restraint. 

But neither of those things come. Instead, Ratchet sighs, pulses  _reassurance/understanding/calm_ against his own staggering waves of  _panic/desperation/terror,_ and starts- well, starts petting him. Stroking the spines along his back from base to tip in slow, even, predictable motions, firm enough to be felt but not roughly enough to push them around. At the same time, the medic's engine purrs a bit louder, a deep, steady rumble against his frame... almost comforting. 

Ratchet is trying to comfort him. 

Soundwave blinks a couple of times, coughing energon out of his vents, then shuts his optics and  _whimpers._ He doesn't want Ratchet to touch him  _anywhere,_ let alone  _there,_ but the fact remains that he  _hurts._ His whole frame hurts, but especially his hips, and- and he's  _scared._ He doesn't want to find out the hard way that Ratchet is right about the potential for dark energon contamination, doesn't want to feel himself unravel like that- and never mind him, what would that do to Laserbeak? 

Laserbeak, who is currently limp and still and silent against his chassis after a desperate attempt to protect him. 

He needs to get help for her, and he needs to get help for himself. Which means he needs to let Ratchet touch him. Including his valve. 

So, whimpering again, he shifts just enough to look up at Ratchet and nod. Okay. Yes. 

 

Ratchet holds Soundwave without commenting, waiting for him to decide despite the urgency of the situation. He isn't about to touch a near-stranger's interface equipment without permission, especially not given the violence clear on his patient's frame, so he strokes Soundwave's back spines and waits until he gets a response. At that point, he lets  _approval/reassurance/comfort_ purr through his field and very carefully stands up with the spymaster in his arms. "Good, Soundwave, thank you. Now- catch." 

He pings his COMM information to Soundwave, waiting for the spymaster to acknowledge, then opens up a base-wide COMM that also includes the spymaster panting in his arms.  _.:This is a base-wide alert, everyone shut up and listen. I am bringing Soundwave in, and all of you are going to leave him alone unless you get his explicit permission to approach. Since most of you won't get permission, stay away from him. Wheeljack, I don't care if he nearly killed you. If you want to start punching everyone who's nearly killed you, best start with yourself. Bulkhead, please try to keep Miko away. Remind her that energon is toxic, and that mechs not used to humans may not react well to being woken by someone they can't immediately see. Optimus, send that groundbridge now:._

After a chorus of affirmatives of varying sullenness, Ratchet cuts the link off, turning his attention to Soundwave- who is moving again, panting louder, seeming rather alarmed once again. "What- you thought I was gonna materialize an entire medbay out of the sand? I'm good, but not that good. Look- I get that you don't wanna get near them, all right? That's why nobody's gonna get near you without your permission, and I am going to  _enforce_ that. C'mon, spook, let's go- ow." 

Apparently he's moved wrong and jostled something, as Soundwave shrieks in pain and bites down on his shoulder plating with remarkable strength, dentae sinking in further than Ratchet would have thought to expect. Apparently that abnormally large number of fangs comes with some extra muscle. 

"...well. Alright then. You know what? If that helps, you just bite me." 

 

Soundwave tenses in expectation of being dropped for his impulsive action, and stays tense even as Ratchet largely ignores him. Not just for the bite- there's a groundbridge whirring to life in front of them, and it's going to take him to the  _Autobot base,_ an unfamiliar area populated by enemies. Or- mostly enemies? Ratchet, at least, may not prove to be a threat. 

Actually- something to consider. Looking for a distraction from the pain and fear, Soundwave turns himself inward, focusing on what he might have to contend with. Not Ratchet, apparently. Arcee doesn't like Decepticons, or him, but has never seemed especially vicious to people who haven't personally wronged her or a friend. Hopefully him trying to kill them doesn't count too much. Bumblebee is- oh, no, definitely not a threat, no spark for cruelty. Optimus hopefully has higher standards than to come after him, at least right now. But the Wreckers... the Wreckers are a concern. Bulkhead, yes, but  _Wheeljack-_ dear Primus, don't let Wheeljack get near him. He doesn't fancy being dismembered. Or blown up. Or- 

Agh. 

Soundwave gasps sharply in pain as the energy of a groundbridge washes over fresh wounds, then ducks his helm and lifts his arm in the best shield he can manage for his face, his helm, and his dear Laserbeak. Too late for concerns, the groundbridge is spiraling out of existence behind him, and he has nowhere to run- even if he could manage to  _walk,_ let alone run. 

He'll just have to hope that no one intends to just... give him to the Wreckers for interrogation as soon as he's not about to die. 

Or... don't plan to...

He can't think. Has Ratchet drugged him somehow, or-

No, no, it's just...

He's just bleeding out. That's all. 

Oh, and someone is behind him.

Propping himself up a fraction, he twists around as much as possible, staring over his shoulder- 

And just manages to get a look at a very startled Optimus Prime before he passes out. 

 

 

Soundwave's last coherent thought before the darkness claims him is a desperate hope that Optimus doesn't have any interest in mechs of his frametype. He can't handle that again, he- he can't. Not a mech Optimus' size. Not so soon after- 

The spymaster's mangled voicebox glitches out a noise remarkably similar to a sob, and the image that follows him into the darkness is of Megatron standing over him, one servo buried in his abdomen and the other raking down his legs in order to pry them apart. 

And he's not aware of it, but, as he's set down on a berth, the spymaster's servos grasp desperately at anything near him- and one set of shaking claws wraps around Ratchet's fingers. 

 

Ratchet pauses, looking down at the slender servo on his own, then sighs softly and raises his voice in order to call to Optimus. "Get over here and get him on his back- he's out cold and I have to get these energon lines patched up before his processor starts shutting down from lack of energon. Laserbeak's not in good shape, but she's better off, she's not a concern right now- do _not_ take her away, just move her to the side so I can reach him better and keep him from  _dying._ Frag Megatron to the  _Pit_ for doing this- why would he even-  _slaggit,_  must behe's finally snapped. Now get over here and hold this mech still so I can keep him from dying- and start figurin' out where you put those psych texts, probably best to read over them. He's gonna need a lot of help to survive this, even if he doesn't bleed out from the fact that  _someone ripped a considerable chunk out of his abdomen and tore his leg into scrap,_ now how the SLAG is Megatron unstable enough to do this to-" 

 

Optimus doesn't respond to Ratchet's angry tirade- best to just let him rant, it seems to help him focus.  Instead, he quietly obeys Ratchet, moving Soundwave onto his back and positioning his limp frame so that Ratchet can easily reach the gaping wounds in Soundwave's side. His servos are too large for this sort of work, so pending any sort of orders from Ratchet, Optimus watches for a moment before carefully setting his own servo on top of the narrow claws formerly grasping at Ratchet's. Soundwave probably can't feel anything, mechs shut down from energon loss tend to be deep in unconsciousness, but there's no harm in trying to offer some comfort. 

Because Optimus has seen a lot during this war. He knows the signs of some of the worst things that one mech can do to another, and... gaping claw-wounds to someone's inner thighs are never a good sign. Given how  _thoroughly_ Megatron has just betrayed Soundwave, the poor spymaster is going to need all the comfort that anyone can give him. 


	2. Safe?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited. Very minor update to face description as of Feb 6th 2018.
> 
> Soundwave is not okay. Let's just... file everything under the category of "Soundwave is not okay" and leave it at that.  
> Warning for discussions of injuries, including some in particularly intimate places.

When Soundwave wakes up, everything hurts considerably less. 

It's comforting.

Almost.

At least until he recognizes the processor cloudiness that comes from sedatives.

Sparkbeat accelerating, Soundwave opens his optics, automatically grasping for Laserbeak, and doesn't find her. Considerably alarmed, he almost sits up despite the pain, frantically looking for her- 

And finds her, still unconscious, dangling by her delicate wings from Wheeljack's servos.  _Wheeljack,_ who hates them both, who could effortlessly rip Laserbeak's wings from her body and maim her beyond repair- 

 

Wheeljack probably shouldn't be holding Laserbeak, and his helm jerks up at the sudden motion, but his only response is a cocky grin. "Hey, noodles, what- _augh-"_

 

Ratchet nearly drops everything in his servos at a furious  _scream_ and the sound of Wheeljack yelping in shock- a yelp which is suddenly cut off in a sharp gasp. "Slaggit-  _Wheeljack,_ I told you not to- Primus- 

He has to set everything down, so Optimus gets there first, pulling Soundwave off of Wheeljack- and, thankfully, bringing Laserbeak with him. Leaving the Prime to handle his bundle of infuriated spymaster, Ratchet rudely grabs Wheeljack's helm and pulls it to the side to examine the bite wound- which is very impressive, especially off such a slender mech. Soundwave's mouth opens far wider than it looks like it should, and, like the bite mark on Ratchet's arm, there's additional puncture marks slightly behind the initial curves of each fang set. Extra fangs- very interesting, and sharp enough to leave deep, bleeding puncture wounds in Wheeljack's throat. "Fragging moron- if he'd been any stronger, you'd be bleedin' out on the floor right now, and I can't say I'd blame him! I  _told_ you not to get near these two- what were you  _thinking,_ picking up a symbiote? Get in the medbay- grab a pad of bandages and apply pressure to that, I'll have to take care of it after I finish fixing whatever he's just pulled loose." 

 

Murmuring "easy, easy", Optimus carefully cradles the lanky mech in both arms, supporting him as much as possible. "My sincerest apologies, Soundwave, my intent was not to upset you. I merely wished to prevent you from maiming Wheeljack. I entirely understand your actions, he should  _not_ have been near you or Laserbeak, and I am not angry with you. You are not in trouble, and I will put you down now. If you will release my arm," he rumbles, his voice as soft as he can manage, and places Soundwave on the berth once the spymaster's claws un-clench from his plating. "There you are. Please refrain from biting myself or my team in future. I shall leave you alone now." 

And, trusting Ratchet to handle the situation, he does. Probably best not to crowd Soundwave. 

 

Muttering something about "always heard he was part Sparkeater", Wheeljack does as he's told (for once), leaving to find something to stem the flow of energon from his throat. It's not dangerous, not yet, but still a bad place to be bleeding from. Bad enough to be worth dealing with now. 

 

Soundwave bares his fangs at Ratchet, skrilling as loudly as he can manage, but it doesn't turn out very threatening. More like a desperate, frightened warning. He's curled into himself, clutching Laserbeak to his chassis with both servos, trying to protect her from- well, from everything. She's- she's  _delicate,_ and she has no way to hide or fly or do  _anything_ to escape, and he can't let anyone hurt her- not now, especially not now, he won't  _survive_ without her- 

He can't help flinching as Ratchet reaches towards him, but he tries to be still, tries his best not to upset Ratchet. He shouldn't do that. Calm Prime or not, Ratchet is his only ally here, or at least the closest thing to it. He can't afford to upset Ratchet, not now- because he needs safety, because he needs to not have a medic angry at him, and because he-

Primus save him, he needs help. He should have been able to rip Wheeljack's throat clean out of the rest of him, with the bite he managed to get- that was a good, solid bite, sinking almost all of his fangs in, but Optimus had pried him off like a recalcitrant turbo-fox pup. He's weak,  _helpless-_ can't stand up, let alone walk. He just has to play along, whatever they want from him, whatever Ratchet wants from him, until he can get Laserbeak and himself to safety. If he can even  _find_ safety, with Megatron- agh. 

 

"Easy, spook- you heard Optimus, nobody blames you for protectin' Laserbeak. Look up at me, yeah?" Ratchet coaxes, trying to make sure the spymaster is still aware of him, and sighs quietly when Soundwave's response is accompanied by a pained sound. "Easy- adrenaline's overriding those painkillers. You just settle down, they should kick in again. Now... I am not hurting you, alright? You need to relax, and I am going to see if I can help you with that." 

Telegraphing his movements and pulsing  _confidence/reassurance/medic-presence,_ Ratchet slowly reaches out and places one servo on Soundwave's back, stroking the same spines he was touching earlier. Slow, firm strokes, base to tip, three per spine before moving to the next. It should be a safe place to touch, and Soundwave doesn't object in voice or frame, aside from tensing just a fraction at the first touch. After a klik or two, he feels Soundwave begin to relax under his servo, then a bit further- presumably as the painkillers kick back in. 

"There. Now- I am sorry about what happened with Laserbeak. I had to take her away for some fine-detail repairs, and I set her back next to you, but apparently Wheeljack had other plans. He's an idiot who likes to mess with slag." 

Eventually, Soundwave goes entirely limp, aside from where he's still holding Laserbeak to his chassis. A moment or two later, he starts to look around again, though without lifting his helm or uncurling. Good sign, and it gives Ratchet an opportunity to get a proper look at his face. Deep orange optics with gold-rimmed, slit pupils, set in angular, light purple-grey faceplates, with a black line running down from the outer corner of each optic. A scattering of scars, nothing major, thin slices and a couple of what look like very old burn marks. Thin, dark purple lips that Ratchet has only ever seen parted so far, showing needle-sharp silver fangs, set in jaws that he's watched open far wider than it seems like they should. Soundwave's face matches the rest of him- odd, predatory, scarred, but almost beautiful. At least, beautiful if he could  _relax._

...not the most appropriate thought to have about his patient, even if it is nothing but an aesthetic attraction. 

 

Soundwave shuts his optics briefly as he waits for the painkillers to settle back in, and makes no effort to pull away from Ratchet's servo. It's partly because he doesn't want to upset Ratchet, and partly because he really doesn't mind. In fact, it's better than "doesn't mind", the petting actually feels... rather nice. It's predictable, it's a heavily armored area with no unpleasant memories attached, and it's  _warm._ So he stays still and as relaxed as he can manage under Ratchet's servo, looking up and around at the room. 

Because it is a room, not the main part of the base that he got a glimpse of earlier. Small room, one door, with his current berth pressed into one corner and a few crates stacked along the opposite wall. Probably a storage room, but clean, and the door is shut. That's... that's good. There's no one in here but Ratchet, who doesn't seem to want to hurt him, and he's... hurting a lot less now. Also... also good. 

Adrenaline ebbing entirely, Soundwave curls up a bit tighter, tracing his fingertips softly around a new patch on Laserbeak's wing as he turns his attention to her. She's still not awake, but the sensation of her over their bond is steady, if a bit weak. She's alive, and that isn't about to change soon. That's- that's the important thing here. 

 

Ratchet eventually removes his servo, sitting back slightly, to make sure the spymaster is looking at him. He is, and very intently- which makes this probably the best time to discuss some unpleasant subjects, before his patient tries to retreat or starts to tense up again. "Soundwave- I assume you would like to know what repairs I did? The good news is, there's no permanent physical damage to you or Laserbeak. Some scars to your leg, possibly, but nothing worse."

A pause to be sure Soundwave is listening, then he continues, keeping his voice and field as reassuring as he can. "Laserbeak had some impact damage, as I'm sure you know. Nothing too serious, but her systems seem to be resetting from the impact, and it's likely she'll be out for some time yet. I repaired her innards and her wings, and she should be able to fly when she wakes up, though she needs to take it easy at first. Now...  _you_ ended up worse off than her, I'm afraid. Crush damage and claw lacerations to your abdomen, which wil take some time to heal, and I had to put your T-cog back in place. That's a relatively common internal dislocation, but it needs to be left alone while it heals, though the damage to the rest of your frame means you won't be able to transform for some time anyway. It's mostly your leg that will prevent that, I had to put every joint in your leg back in place. Your hips were both forced loose along transformation seams, so I had to put those back as well, and you had some torn energon lines in your thighs. Hey- you still with me?"

Yep, still listening, though curling into himself a bit more. May as well get this over with. "And... I had to repair your valve, the injuries were beyond what self-repair could handle. Good news there is I couldn't find any sign of dark energon contamination, but- I had to repair a number of tears in your valve rim and lining. I've coated your valve walls with something to seal all the wounds and encourage self-repair, and there's a strong sedative in it as well, so that should help to handle your pain. There's a thin, temporary seal over your valve to keep the sealant in place, and you need to leave that in place, all right? I'll -hey, optics on me- get you into the showers soon, and you can scrub the rest of yourself all you want, but you need to leave your valve alone. I've already cleaned it, anyway- there's nothing to get rid of. Okay, Soundwave?" 

 

Okay. It's... that's good to know. 

Soundwave listens, nodding tiny motions now and then to make it clear that he's interested, and does  _not_ curl up and hide from thinking about his interface equipment. That information is as important as the rest about him, after all. Even if it hurts to think about. 

No, wait, that's... that's actual pain. Which, well- he  _did_ just attack a Wrecker, he's probably pulled something loose. In, ow, most of his frame. Wincing, he in-vents deeply a couple of times, then taps the berth twice before gesturing just slightly to his side in an effort to get Ratchet to understand. Whatever that is doesn't feel right, and he needs to be able to move properly. 

He does his best to behave for Ratchet. Even shifts onto his side to make it easier, though watching Ratchet's servos the entire time. The first touch isn't too bad, high on his side- Ratchet's servos are warm and gentle. He could almost, almost relax, and then Ratchet's servo drops lower, onto his stomach, and- 

A flash of _claws digging into his stomach, wrapping around muscle cables and wrenching them away and then slicing in again and holding him in an excruciatingly painful grip, keeping him helpless as another servo smothers a scream of pain-_

_No no no no-_

Next thing he knows, he's crammed into the corner, pedes braced against the berth to keep him pinned to the wall, shrieking a terrified high note at thin air. 

 

 

 _"_ All right, all right-" 

Ratchet backs up and raises both servos, pulsing  _reassurance/comfort/submission_ against Soundwave's roiling  _shock/panic/confusion,_ and waits for the spymaster's optics to fix properly on him. "Okay, then, no touching your stomach. Easy... watch me, alright? Remember, Soundwave, it's only me. I am not going to hurt you, I just need you to move your legs out of the way so I can scan you. Optics on me, stay here- stay with me, spook," he croons, as softly as his voice will go, and sits on the edge of the berth until Soundwave uncurls a bit. Slowly raising one servo, he waits for a moment to be sure Soundwave is fully aware of him, then slowly scans the lanky mech's chassis and abdomen. When the scan is done, he flips open the display panel, as before, and moves to give Soundwave a good look. "There. Those bright spots are areas of high nanite activity, I had to practically soak a few of your organs in repair solution. And this... right here, this looks like what you're feeling. There's a muscle cable that was damaged earlier and has slid out of place from strain, but I can probably put it back. Easy... optics on me. Just going to put my servo on your side for a moment." 

 

Soundwave's vocalizer crackles and gives out, and he reboots it as he slumps back against the berth, still crammed into the corner but not really trying to get away. Fangs bared, he snarls quietly at the situation in general, but nods once to Ratchet to indicate his lack of refusal. Actually- more than lack of refusal. It's permission. He doesn't want to be touched, but he wants the cable back in place, and- 

Oh.

And Ratchet's broad servo is warm against his chilled side. Optics dimmed but focused on Ratchet's servo, he watches as the medic rubs slowly at his side with the heel of his palm, applying careful pressure against the cable until it snaps back into place with a painful twitch. He jolts in response, but the shimmer of relief afterwards has him relaxing. And, much to his own surprise, actually starting to lean into the warmth of the touch. Frowning slightly, he focuses his optics on the red-and-white servo even as Ratchet pulls away, his sedative-laden processor trying to clarify his own responses. Hm- odd. Must be a response to the warmth, it's not surprising given his current state. His low vein pressure means his frame is conserving energon for his innards and restricting its flow to his extremities, so he's cold. Warmth is good, and- 

And  _that's_ when Ratchet gently drops a bundle of already-heated electric blanket in his lap. 

Ohh,  _Primus._

Impulsively, he gathers up the blanket and shoves his face into it, reveling in the heat and softness of it. When he realizes what he's doing, he sets it back into his lap, glancing away from Ratchet slightly and plucking at the blanket in an effort to act casual and get the warm surface spread out over himself. He doesn't like being cold, especially not now, and he doesn't want to have any more of his frame exposed than is absolutely necessary. 

 

Holding back a fraction of a smile, Ratchet waits for Soundwave to relax again, then gestures towards his formerly twisted leg. "I need to check that leg over, Soundwave, from the knee down. Need to check the positioning of your armor and leg structures and manually inspect the welds. Shouldn't hurt, and I promise I'll be quick. Can snarl at me all you want, too, I don't care. After that, I won't need to touch you again for some time, and I'll give you these extra blankets for insulation. I can either do it right now, or I can give you a klik or two to settle and then do it. It's up to you, alright? I'm not gonna push- you got choices." 

Soundwave stares at him for a moment, then nods once, and Ratchet carefully settles both servos on the spymaster's leg. "Here we go. Now, Soundwave- if you need me to stop, you tell me, I don't want you flippin' out like that again. Bad for your frame, for your mental health- Pit, bad for  _my_ frame if you lash out. Wouldn't blame you, but I'd rather avoid that. So, if you need a break, you pull away and let me know. Nothin' shameful about needing some time to settle." 

Another nod, but Soundwave doesn't pull away, just stares at him and hisses quietly at every new touch. Acting fierce, but only acting- Ratchet can feel the tremble in his frame, can feel him fighting to stay still. In the interest of helping Soundwave stay calm, Ratchet starts at the spymaster's knee and works his way down, getting the probably-most-unnerving parts over with first. Careful presses to the armor, seeing if it shifts properly, then firm strokes down the muscle cables to check for lingering damage, then a fingertip run over each weld to ensure the texture is as it ought to be with no signs of infection or damage yet. Soundwave twitches a few times under his touches, probably out of reflex at having cables pressed, but makes no effort to pull away- though the snarling does get a bit louder now and then, presumably on the uncomfortable spots. Hey- whatever works. Seems like a viable substitute for cursing, given the circumstances, and it does seem to be helping. 

 

Soundwave would much rather take option 3, "frag off and don't touch me", but his leg is damaged enough that he accepts the inspection in the interest of healing properly. Besides... he'd rather not frag off the medic so soon, not when he can't escape. So he offers his leg for inspection, as uneasy as it makes him, and he intently watches Ratchet's work until he's allowed to pull away and can curl up again. This time, not just under the electric blanket, because- 

Oh. Odd. Ratchet spreads the two additional blankets out, then drapes them over his frame, covering him in heavy warmth and pleasantly soft material. Soundwave blinks a few times, slowly processing, then huddles down under the blankets and eyes Ratchet- waiting for the medic to leave. He wants to be alone now, please. Wanted to be alone ever since he woke up, without anyone else around. Laserbeak, pressed limp against his chassis, doesn't count- wouldn't if she was awake. She may as well be part of him. Ratchet, though? Not part of him, and... not leaving." 

 

"There you go, get comfortable. Now- ideally, I'd prefer to look the rest of those marks over. Right now, though, the stress from that would be far worse for you than  _not_ checking. Wasn't anything too bad, either. I had to replace some of the plating over your secondary processor, and there's some gashes in your back that needed closing, but nothing too bad. Assuming none of them start bleeding, heat up, or hurt more than they should, I can leave them alone. Same goes for everything else, all right, Soundwave? You're a smart mech, you know it's important to head off infections before they can get going. In particular..." 

Knowing Soundwave won't want to hear this, Ratchet ducks his helm and meets the spymaster's optics, his voice as soft as he can manage. "...I need to know if your valve starts to feel infected. I  _know_ you don't want me touching you there, and I'd be able to work with you as far as where and how an exam happened and if you were sedated for it, but infections that deep in your frame could-" 

 

_No._

Soundwave  _shrieks_ at Ratchet and slams his back against the wall, shaking his helm and baring his fangs in the same motion. No,  _no,_ that is  _not_ happening. Ratchet has been shockingly gentle with him so far, but that doesn't mean that Soundwave is going to let the medic anywhere near his valve. Not now, not later, not  _ever,_ and  _especially_ not now. No. He will  _not_ let himself be-  _no._ Optics wide, showing his fangs in the most threatening gesture he can manage, he bushes up his plating and waits for Ratchet to get the  _extremely unsubtle hint_ and  _frag off._ Which Ratchet does  _not_ do. In fact, the medic holds out a servo towards him, and Soundwave responds by skreeling again and slamming his claws into the berth mat near the medic's fingers. Not close enough to hit or be a real threat, but it is a very clear indicator that he  _will not be touched._

 

Ratchet locks his arm in place to prevent himself from jerking away, slowly withdrawing his servo instead as an indicator of peace. "-okay, okay, hey, I get it. Wasn't trying to touch you, Soundwave. But you need to  _listen._ You are not in any shape to fight an infection off, we both know that. If an infection takes hold in your valve lining, you will be in  _agony,_ and it will  _spread._ Into your hip joints, up into your primary  _and_ symbiote gestation tanks, and keep going. I'm talking about permanent damage to the deep structures of your hip joints, possible removal of both gestation tanks, and enough pain to make you think you'd died and gone to the Pit. And I don't mean the  _real_ one, I know you already got through that, I mean the fictional place where dead people supposedly go if they've been very bad. Now, you most likely won't have to deal with that, but I  _need_ to know if it happens. If your equipment starts feeling hot, if that seal melts through in the next week, or if the pain gets worse, I need to know. Hey-" 

Lowering his armor in a deliberate indicator of submission, Ratchet slowly holds out his servo again, palm-up. "-can you do that, Soundwave? You have my word I will be as careful as I can, if the situation comes up. I will not cause you pain, I will not humiliate you, I will not behave unprofessionally- I will not do anything to you that is not medically necessary. Whatever you think of me, I am a good medic and a decent person, which means I do  _not_ molest my patients! I will remove your pain and risk factors as much as I can, using any method that you are comfortable with, and I will do everything that I can to help you relax. I will not expect you to relax, I will not expect you to be calm, but I will do my best to help you. Because that is my  _job,_ and" armor slumping a bit more in a silent sigh, "because I do not hate you."

A pause, and Ratchet almost smiles as he continues, though it's more of a wry smirk. "Pit- I don't even  _not like_ you. I don't like a lot of what you've done, but, Pit, I don't like a lot of what  _I've_ done. We've been in the middle of a war, you've probably noticed. But I know what cruelty looks like, and I have never seen anything like it from you. I have- mostly neutral feelings about you, really. If anything other than neutral, you are... impressive in battle. But, even if I  _loathed_ you, I would  _not_ take advantage of you. I am not that person. So, Soundwave... do you think you can be honest if you think something is wrong?" 

 

Soundwave keeps his optics on Ratchet's servo, wary, but slowly reaches out at the... extremely non-threatening offer. Optics dimming, he listens to the warning, much as he doesn't want to, and... well, mostly attempts optic contact. Ends up more or less looking at Ratchet's forehelm chevron, but that works. It's something like polite, at least.

Bit of an... interesting speech, also. Ratchet sounds firm enough that Soundwave believes him, both about the dangers and about the precautions the medic intends to take. That fits with what Soundwave has seen in the past about how Ratchet acts, he's never seen even the barest hint of improper behavior. The problem here isn't that he expects Ratchet to be cruel (though the reassurance helps), the problem is that he does  _not_ want anyone near his interface equipment. Pit, he doesn't want  _himself_ near his interface equipment. If he could take his equipment off, put it in a box, and shove it in the back of a closet, he would be quite satisfied at the moment. But... better a pelvic exam than his entire pelvic assembly rotting out, and Soundwave nods absent-mindedly when he's pretty sure the speech is about over, trying to signal "yes, fine, now  _leave"._

The speech doesn't end, though, and it goes... somewhere interesting. Focusing his optics on Ratchet, Soundwave tilts his helm and listens with every bit of his attention instead of just most of it, genuinely interested in what Ratchet has to say. This isn't basic reassurance, this is- hm. Well. This is Ratchet expressing actual  _emotions_ at him. Which has Soundwave thinking about his own side of their emotional tangle, and... Ratchet's assessment of him is actually rather similar to Soundwave's own feelings towards the medic. Nothing...  _too_ negative, at least before this whole  _incident._ Ratchet is a good medic with an honor code, impressive for having survived so long, and known to repair Decepticons even as they scream threats at him. The only negative point (aside from faction, which Soundwave almost entirely disregards as a measure of a person at this point) is his treatment of Laserbeak, which... though it appalls Soundwave, is understandable. Logical. Practical. Especially with pressure from a Wrecker.  _Them,_ he doesn't like. 

Ratchet? Well, at the moment, he would like Ratchet to  _leave,_ but that seems to account for most of his negative feelings at the moment. 

Looking down at their servos, Soundwave moves to carefully rub the bases of his fingers against Ratchet's fingertips, almost a stroking motion. Truthfully, he isn't quite certain what he's up to, but it feels about right at the moment. A quiet sigh, then Soundwave meets Ratchet's optics, actually  _meets_ them, and nods once in understanding. Okay. He gets it. Much as the idea disturbs him, he  _will_ alert Ratchet to developing infections. It's that or suffer permanent damage, agonizing pain, and potential death, after all.

And there's a tiny flutter of satisfaction at feeling Ratchet's servo tighten against his in response. Something about having garnered a response with such a tiny motion, one that's put his fingertips nicely against Ratchet's wrist and against the pulse point, is satisfying. Optics still on Ratchet's face, he repeats the motion again, watching for the reaction- and catches it this time, a fraction of a nanoklik's worth of something. Exactly what that expression is, he's not certain, but it's definite- and it's accompanied by the tiniest press of Ratchet's servo into his. Is this pleasant for Ratchet? Medic's servos are incredibly sensitive, after all, but... if anything, Ratchet ought to be concerned. Soundwave could rip his wrist, palm, and fingers open in one swift motion from this position, send Ratchet reeling in agony, and risk permanent damage. Ratchet evidently doesn't think he's... going to do that. Trust?

He should think this over. He's not going to, though, because he still wants Ratchet to  _leave._

_Thank you for the assistance and the kindness, but you need to leave, now, you need to go, just go away-_

 

Ratchet watches the narrow claws for a moment longer, then squeezes Soundwave's servo before slowly withdrawing, reaching into subspace for something. He's not certain what that gesture meant, but it rather looks like Soundwave doesn't know either. Soundwave's optics are incredibly expressive, no wonder he wears the mask. Right now, the spymaster looks confused, though not frightened- and, Pit, increasingly like he's about to either start crying or start screaming. There's only so long anyone can be quiet and calm about this sort of thing, and, as Soundwave curls back into himself, Ratchet decides to wrap things up as quickly as possible and let him alone. 

"Good. Thank you, Soundwave. Aside from that- I do eventually need to do a brief pelvic exam to check that everything is healing, but that won't be for quite some time, and its non-emergent nature will mean we can take plenty of time to get you comfortable. You don't think about that right now, Spook, you just vent. And take this- here," he says, offering Soundwave a small box with three buttons on top. "That'll ping my private COMM line. First button there means you want me to come in fairly soon, second button means you need me to come in as soon as possible, third means you need me to drop everything and come  _now._ That last one is for if you tear an energon line or, however unlikely this is, if someone is threatening you. And you might not have noticed this yet, but there's a small device clipped to the underside of your chassis armor there. That just monitors your pulse and sparkrate, nothing else, and will send me an alert if either of those goes anywhere risky. Please leave that on. If you  _must_ take it off, call me in  _first_ so I don't think you've flatlined, alright?" 

He can't quite catch Soundwave's optics, not any more, the spymaster is deliberately looking away from him, but Ratchet tries as he continues talking. "That door over there locks from the inside. Optimus and I have medical overrides that can unlock it, but neither of us will use those unless there's a true emergency. No one else has the codes, and neither one of us will come in without your permission unless you're in serious danger. Those two buttons there are your door control and your lock. That door does  _not_ lock from the outside, are we clear? You are not trapped. Hey-" 

It takes some creative positioning, but he manages to get  _near_ optic contact with the spymaster, trying to get that increasingly unfocused gaze at least near him. "You are not a prisoner, Soundwave. We are not going to hurt you or keep you captive. I will say, if you try to leave right now, I am going to put you back in here- but only so you don't bleed out. As soon as you get to the point where you aren't in imminent danger of dying, you're free to leave, but... I would really suggest that you  _not_ do that. As long as you are here, Soundwave, you are under my protection, and I will  _not_ allow anyone to try to capture you- nor does Optimus want anyone to. You will receive energon, medical assistance, and protection, with no strings attached, as long as you don't try to literally kill anyone. Again, you are not a prisoner, we are not keeping you captive... but we  _are_ your best option here. Okay?" 

No response. Not surprising. Ratchet sits back, abandoning his attempts at optic contact- which immediately has Soundwave glancing towards him. Interesting. "Not okay, then? That's fine, this is not anywhere near an okay situation. Be not-okay all you want, just don't take it out on my plating. You can figuratively chew me out all you want, though, I don't care. Now, this cabinet," pausing to stand up and open the door, "is stocked with mid-grade that has a dose of minerals added in to boost your self-repair. You need to drink at least half of this cube, and you can finish it off if you need to. Don't drink the rest of that, though, you'll overload your systems. No one is going to take it away, that's for you to drink." 

Soundwave accepts the cube, taking a rather grudging-seeming sip of the energon, and meets Ratchet's optics just a bit better as he continues. "No one is going to bother you in here. I've told everyone to leave you alone. Bumblebee may come by later to check on you, he's worried. You can tell him to frag off if you want, but give him a klik before you tell him t' leave, don't just hiss as soon as the door opens. Not sure if you remember, but he's the reason you're here instead of  _dead,_ he found you. Well, him and Rafael, one of the humans. Another of the humans, Miko -you've traded photos with her, I hear- is probably going to come peeking in here at some point. You can hiss at her all you want, but please don't actually threaten the humans- they're fragile. Don't bleed on 'em, either. If you start bleeding, call me- all right? I need to keep you from  _dying._ Now... I'm gonna leave you alone. Call me if you need something, Soundwave. Unless you decide to pester me every five kliks, I won't be angry at you for calling. I will be  _much_ angrier if you need medical assistance and  _don't_ call me, clear?" 

Ratchet presses a cube firmly into Soundwave's servo, then steps away, opening the door to leave. "Again, Soundwave- you are  _safe_ here. And I know you don't feel like it, won't for a long time, but you are going to be okay. Won't try and convince you of that, but.. you'll be okay." 

With that, the door slides shut behind him, and Soundwave is left alone.

 

Thank  _Primus._

Soundwave slumps back against the wall, curling around Laserbeak (and the energon), and drags the blankets back with himself. Fumbling with the heat blanket, he cranks the heat up as high as it can go, then pulls the rest of the blankets up over himself for insulation. He can feel himself starting to shake, the urge to hide in some dark corner getting vastly stronger, as he sets the energon by his side in favor of tucking Laserbeak up close. It's not surprising, not really, he's burned through his last shreds of control just to keep himself from breaking down in front of Ratchet.

Now, without anyone watching him, Soundwave has no reason to keep himself controlled. Vents hitching a few times, he whimpers softly under his breath, shoulders heaving, and  _sobs_ into the blankets he's gathered up against his face. No one is around to see, Laserbeak isn't awake to comfort him, and he  _hurts._ Megatron  _betrayed_ him. His literal worst nightmare, brought crashing into agonizing reality, leaving him stranded, bleeding, and  _alone._

Soundwave doesn't have anything left in him at this point. No control, barely enough energon to live, and no idea what to do next. Just pain, hopelessness, and the clinging feeling of utter betrayal. 

It's a long time before he stops crying. 

 


	3. Not good.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN EDITED. Finished as of March 21st.
> 
> Soundwave is not in a good place in this chapter, and the editing has made certain scenes a bit clearer and more detailed. Still no graphic rape descriptions, I don't do those, but everything leading up to the assault itself has been described.

He hurts. 

His frame is dulled, laden with painkillers, but the ache is still there. 

His  _spark_ hurts. 

His very  _soul_ hurts. 

Frame, spark, soul, every fiber of his being  _hurts._

Megatron  _promised._ He made a pledge, millennia ago, that he would  _never_ hurt Soundwave. He swore to protect Soundwave, to keep him  _safe_ from anyone who tried to- 

Soundwave's vents hitch in a soft, broken sob and he tugs the blankets up closer, pressing his face into them again in search of any comfort he can get. 

Megatron promised. He took Soundwave's trembling servos in his, met Soundwave's optics, and swore on everything he held dear to  _never_ let anyone hurt Soundwave like that again, swore that he would  _never_ take anything Soundwave wasn't willing to give. And then-

 

 

Soundwve's vents hitch again and he lifts a servo to stroke along a mark on his face, half-healed but still sore at the touch. A rough gouge,  not healed properly despite being almost a week old. 

Megatron had been in one of his  _moods._ So blindly furious that he was breaking everything his servos touched, completely unlike his former self, terrifying the Vehicons enough that they would almost have dared to flee the bridge entirely if not for Starscream. Soundwave had tried to stay out of the way, off to the side until the rage died down. It always did. Except this time. This time it  _wouldn't_ die down, and Soundwave was contemplating trying to sneak off- 

Until Megatron started to tear into the computers. One of the crew consoles first, which was unfortunate but workable, and then- 

Then he'd started in on Soundwave's consoles, smashing the screen out of one. 

Megatron  _knew_ what those were to him. They were a gateway into a world where Soundwave was in control, was safe, was able to do anything he wanted with little more than a  _thought._ It was a world where he could slip through every data-stream in the solar system, slink into every database, and find out  _everything_ there was to know. Yes, Soundwave had a backup computer in his room, but it had nowhere  _near_ the processing power of this one, it was probably the last working computer of its kind in the  _galaxy,_ and Soundwave  _needed_ it. 

He'd just tried to divert Megatron. That was all. 

Megatron's response was to backhand him across the face. 

No warning, no "get out of my way", not even a shove to somewhere else. No care for what he might inadvertently do to the comparatively delicate mech in front of him. He just struck. 

Soundwave had staggered to the side, completely stunned by the power and the  _shock_ of the blow, and had just stood there as the shards of his shattered visor rained to the floor. He'd stood there, energon dripping sluggishly from the cuts in his face and striking against the broken shards in a bloody rain of betrayal, trying to regain himself and process what had happened. 

When he finally dragged himself back, he fled. Away from Megatron (who was busy ranting at thin air), away from the many visors that were mostly trained on Megatron anyway, away from everything but his quarters and  _safety._

 

Afraid for himself and for Laserbeak, he'd stayed in hiding for two days, hoping Megatron would settle down and forget Soundwave's perceived wrongdoing. 

When he did come out, he couldn't focus. He couldn't manage not to stare at Megatron every time the warlord was nearby, couldn't help flinching away if there were any sudden movements or stabs of ill-tempered behavior. The only thing he could focus on was trying to  _understand,_ to grasp what had set Megatron off so badly. Megatron had  _never_ hit Soundwave, not since back in the PIts where it was fight or die, and had never so much as threatened to do so. Well- aside from one incident where he'd gestured too widely and Soundwave had been in the path of his servo, but that had been entirely accidental and Megatron had been terribly apologetic. He'd never,  _never_ willingly hurt Soundwave, even as the dark energon started to take hold, and then he'd- 

He'd struck Soundwave,  _hard,_ shattering his mask, and acted like it was  _nothing._

Then, a few days later, in response to Soundwave's caution that Megatron himself had caused, Megatron had- 

 

Soundwave's servos clench on the blanket, claws pricking through it, and his entire frame tenses as his processor abruptly swamps him in a returning memory. 

 

_"Soundwave... you have been **useless** lately," Megatron growls, glaring down at the spymaster standing nervously in front of him. "You are distracted, you refuse to use your pet for anything, you haven't yet finished the repairs to the computers, and you keep-" he snarls, gesturing sharply in Soundwave's direction, "keep  **cringing.** Not only do you hide from the crew, you stare at  **me** any time I come near you, cringing like a wirerat and trying to  **hide** from me. It is  **pathetic.** You are pathetic, you are weak, you are  **useless** to me, and I do not need a  **useless** mech on my crew. As my servant, you are a **failure.** " _

 

_Soundwave can't even attempt to formulate a reply. He can ignore others who try to mock him, but coming from Megatron, even if it isn't true, this hurts. He **has** been useless lately, hasn't he? He can't do anything with Megatron in the room, with mechs staring at him, having to try to figure out how to hide his face and continue his work. _

_He wants to hide. Unicron below, he wants to hide. He wants his visor back, he wants to turn away, to hide from the burning purple optics glaring down at him, but he's starting to think that Megatron will **hurt** him if he looks away. So he meets Megatron's optics, as much as he can, plating clamped and struts tense, optics locked as close to Megatron's as he can. He's drowning in Megatron's field, in the angry, unnaturally tinted assault of stabbing  **fury** that wraps around him, in the  **intent** to hurt him- Megatron's field is starting to hurt more than the words, Soundwave is starting to have trouble venting, and then Megatron slams a servo against his chassis and pins him to the wall. _

_Skreeking a painful noise of shock and dismay, Soundwave instinctively tries to claw at Megatron's arm, to get the crushing force away, and freezes at a warning growl and another suffocating pulse of that thick field._

_He needs to run. He needs to get away, **now,** consequences be damned, he needs to get away from Megatron and get off the ship and  **run-**_

_But the door is locked. Megatron locked the door when he came in, and Soundwave had been too concerned at the time to pay it much thought, but he's starting to realize that he should have left as soon as that happened, because there is a glint in Megatron's optics that Soundwave has only ever seen aimed at Starscream. He can't be reading that right, can he?_

_He is, and Megatron's grin confirms it, and Soundwave's spark drops in his chassis in the same instant that he starts clawing at Megatron's arm in search of an important line that he can cut to **get away.**_

_But Megatron's other servo locks around his throat, squeezing enough to cut off the energon flow until he goes limp, then the servo comes off his chassis and there's an instant of relief-_

_Then Laserbeak launches herself free of his chassis, right at Megatron's face, and is immediately swatted aside, before the servo that struck her buries its claws in Soundwave's abdomen. Half-extended datacables curl and spasm, their sensory net overridden with the pain signals of Megatron's claws curling to grip a servoful of muscle cables, and Soundwave's shriek of pain is cut off by the servo still around his throat as Megatron lifts him._

 

_The warlord regards Soundwave for a moment, then takes one large step and pins the spymaster to his berth, unaffected by the feeble attempts at scratching him or sliding claws into seams. As if he's doing nothing out of the ordinary, he watches Soundwave struggle against him for another few moments, bloody servo tightening whenever his datacables start to coordinate again, and speaks almost casually to his weakly keening prisoner. "You've become almost as useless as Starscream. At least I still have one use for him... let's see if you can fill that role instead."_

_The servo around Soundwave's throat releases, instead clamping around his thigh, the pop-snap of a dislocating hip joint almost drowning out the spymaster's despairing cry as his legs are wrenched apart-_

 

"Primus damn it- Soundwave,  _wake up-"_

 

 

Soundwave snaps out of the memory purge with a shriek of terror, claws striking out at thin air and solid metal for as long as he can, then his arms are trapped under something and he  _whines_ in distress as his entire frame tenses up. Vents heaving, mouth open to pant for cool air, Soundwave claws weakly at what little armor he can reach-

Until it starts to register that the armor is something different. He can't see, but he can  _feel,_ and the armor under his servos is... smooth. Solid, but not rough or sharp-edged. Smooth. 

And there's warmth against his back, something soft and gently heated and  _nice,_ and he still can't see but the mech in front of him smells of antiseptic rather than  _insanity._ The field around him is thick and heavy, but soft, gentle,  _reassuring,_ like a blanket. 

Oh. Blankets. The warmth against his back, the substance pinning his arms down, even- 

Not bothering to lift his trapped servos, Soundwave shakes his helm a couple of times, trying to dislodge the substance blinding him, and blinks as a careful servo untangles the cloth from around his audial fins and leaves him face-to-face with Ratchet. 

Right. Ratchet. Autobots. 

Ow. 

Still panting, Soundwave slumps against Ratchet's frame, fully expecting to be pushed away. 

What he doesn't expect is for Ratchet to start caressing his audial fins. 

 

Ignoring the many, many scratches to his back and arms, Ratchet croons gently to Soundwave, humming reassurance through his voice and through his field. Close up like this, he can feel Soundwave's agitated field, held back with remarkable control but still making itself felt. He's terrified, of course, but there's a confused-warmth undercurrent that's definitely tending towards something positive. So he stays still, ignores the stinging of his scratched plating, and keeps petting Soundwave. One servo on his back, between the spines, one servo petting his audial fins.

"Hello, Soundwave. Back with me? Good, there we go. You're all right, spook... it's just me. Laserbeak, too. You flipped 'er upside down, but she isn't hurt. Or awake, not yet. She'll be fine, though, just resting. C'mon, focus those optics- you look at me. Then do me a favor an' look down, those cables are getting a bit tight," he mutters, glancing down to where Soundwave's data-cables are wrapped painfully tight around his abdomen. "Don't mind too much, those can stay there, just gotta  _loosen_ 'em and stop crushing me." 

The cables loosen, with an apologetic chirping noise to boot, and the spymaster slumps, seeming bewildered, into his arms. Progress. Now to explain why he has Soundwave in his lap, because, uh. This is odd. "Ah- there ya go. Sorry about this whole tangle- needed a way to wake you up, looked like you had a nasty memory purge going on. And before you start starin' at me, this  _is_ a valid technique for calming a patient. Gentle, firm contact with a nonthreatening mech, especially a medic, can lower anxiety levels considerably and ease stress. It's up to you, though. You want to back off, you can. You want to stay here, I don't mind. The cables are fine, too, as long as you keep them relaxed. So- you just think about that for a klik or two, no pressure. At the very least, I'm staying in here until your vitals settle, I can't leave you alone with a sparkrate like that." 

 

Baffled as he is, Soundwave can't muster the energy or the motivation to move away from Ratchet. This is a  _strange_ level of care, even from a medic. Ratchet is speaking quietly to him,  _petting_ him, holding him close, letting him settle in and wind his datacables around a solid, warm frame. It's... almost comfortable. Or it would be if he felt better. His spark is still racing, his frame pumped full of adrenaline and trying to make him run away from  _something,_ but he can't even consider getting up right now because Ratchet is warm and the blankets are soft and-

Ratchet's fingertips find a particularly nice spot behind his audial fin, and Soundwave's claws curl tighter on the medic's plating in response. Oh, that feels  _good,_ and he's still confused but it feels  _amazing._

But why is Ratchet doing this? Is- 

 _Primus_ he hopes this isn't a proposition. Warbling a pained noise, the spymaster starts to arch himself away from Ratchet, alarmed, but slumps back with a distressed little gasp as his injured leg refuses to move. 

 

"Oh, hey, hey- you stop doin' that. Soundwave, if you want me to stop, all you have to do is  _ask,_ " Ratchet sighs, raising both servos until Soundwave settles back into his lap, and keeps his servos away from the lanky mech as he speaks. "You looked like you might be enjoying what I was doing, that's the only reason I kept petting you. If you aren't, I can stop and- ah, Pit, might have to contradict myself. One of yer optics isn't tracking right. I'm bettin' you know that can be a sign of serious processor trauma, so I do need to-" 

Soundwave interrupts him by raising one servo, but doesn't try to strike him, only signs something out. Unfortunately, it's something in a sign dialect Ratchet isn't familiar with, on a servo not exactly structured for clear sign, so Soundwave has to repeat himself a couple of times before it clicks. 

"Mech, you got one Pit of an accent there- what, 'not here'? I don't know if you just can't feel that or what, Soundwave, but that optic isn't working right. Just... let me see, all right?" Ratchet says, slowly holding out one servo, and hums a reassuring noise in the back of his throat when Soundwave goes still- with a jerky gesture towards the side of his own helm. Frowning slightly, Ratchet leans in to get a better look, overworked optics adjusting rather loudly, and spots what Soundwave is indicating. A long, thin scar all down the side of Soundwave's face, hidden right up against where his visor anchors to the right side of his face. It's a precise, even cut, perfectly made, clearly a medic's work. But what would be the point of cutting along... 

Oh, Primus. An old image from a particularly nasty text flickers through Ratchet's mind, and he winces slightly at the idea. That's the first cut of an older empurata technique. Soundwave still has his face, still has his servos, so they must have been interrupted, but... Primus. 

"...ah, yeah, Pit. Hold still, need a scan-" he mutters, running a careful, close-up scan along that side of Soundwave's face, and shows the readout to his tense patient. "-there. About what I'd expect. Scar tissue coming inward from all along that line, see here? Must have been a few nerves severed, and facial nerves are difficult to repair properly. Hey- you make a face at me real quick, need to check the mobility," Ratchet orders, and is treated to a close-up view of the concerning optic twitch as Soundwave very deliberately rolls both optics. His right optic tracks a bit oddly, twitching for part of its rotation, probably a result of a nerve not healing quite right. The exaggerated snarl-smirk that Soundwave offers him is a bit lopsided as well, the right side of his mouth lagging a fraction, but the motion is smooth and the end result is even. 

"Good. Looks okay to me. I could theoretically go in and try to fix those nerves, but I doubt you want any more surgery done around your face, and it doesn't look like much of an issue for you," Ratchet sighs, then shakes his helm and lightly pats Soundwave's arm, not bothering to hide the trace of an impressed pulse through his standard _medic-grade-reassurance_ field. "Frag, I'm surprised you ain't  _more_ upset about me touchin' you. Look, I don't- I don't do empurata. Never have. It's a twisted, disgusting,  _barbaric_ technique, and anyone who practices it never should have taken their medic's oath in the first place. All right? You are welcome to not like me touching you, given the circumstances I'd be shocked if you didn't have some complaints, but I don't want fear of me to be part of that. I'm not going to hurt you, I'm not going to molest you, I'm not going to do  _anything_ except help you. And right now, you are acting like your frame has been starved for contact for a very long time, so I am offering contact with no strings attached. If you want it. Part of my job." 

 

 _Does_ he want that? 

He's certainly... very close to Ratchet right now. More or less in his lap still, with one of the medic's servos on his arm, both his datacables wound around Ratchet's midsection and not even beginning to unwrap. He's still cold, and Ratchet is  _warm._ Warm and solid and  _alive._ And his EM field is out, engulfing Soundwave in what's intended to be an entirely professional tone of  _reassurance/comfort/confidence._ Which, honestly, would be nice in and of itself- it may be contrived, meant as a professional facade, but it's  _open_ and surprisingly warm. And there's an undercurrent, something almost-gruff and rather tired, with real, genuine  _concern_ in it. Soundwave has had considerable practice in reading EM fields without the other noticing, and he does so now, monitoring Ratchet's field closely as he slowly moves back into Ratchet's lap. A firm, deliberately pushed pulse of  _approval_  wraps around him,with that professional tone attached, and the undercurrent  _flutters._ Hm. 

Ratchet is clearly projecting some of this on purpose, but it's not intentionally misleading. It's a medic trait, automatically brought up to calm and reassure a patient who might be alarmed by the lack of an EM field. That undercurrent, though, is not intentionally projected. That's genuine. In his mind, Soundwave winds the little wisps of it around his fingers, inspecting it as thoroughly as possible to see what it might be. Like he's caught a wisp of ribbon floating in the wind. 

This particular wisp of ribbon has "Ratchet is genuinely happy for your acceptance of contact" written on it in large, bold letters. 

That's... nice. It's not surprising, not really, Ratchet is a medic and a  _good_ one, but... it's nice. Even if it isn't because of him, specifically. 

It's a bit beyond what any medic can reasonably be expected to do with a prisoner, though. Soundwave isn't going to die if he isn't  _cuddled._ He doesn't need this. It's appreciated, but not needed. 

He doesn't need this. 

He doesn't... need...

Soundwave's vents hitch, once, twice, and he bites back the whimper that tries to escape. No. He doesn't- he- he doesn't- 

That's a lie.

He needs this.

Primus, he needs this.

Soundwave pushes his helm into Ratchet's chassis plating, hiding as much as possible, claws tightening on the medic's armor.

Ratchet is  _holding_ him. 

It's been what feels like eons since someone has held him like this. Laserbeak snuggles him, but she's little, she can't lend him this much  _warmth_. Soundwave hasn't been held without intent to harm since the beginning of the war, since quiet nights with Megatron, then Megatronus, curled up together in a nook somewhere to share body heat and remember that they have at least  _one_ other being on their side. And then the war roared to full life with them at the helm of it, and... that was it. Too busy for affection, too on-edge, both, or just not in the mood, and they both seemed to stop trying for it somewhere along the way. Soundwave slept in a heap of blankets and symbiotes to rest properly, but the group got smaller and smaller as the war went on, the plating they'd brought thinned away with them, and Megatron- 

Megatronus ebbed, flickered, and vanished. In his place was a  _warlord_. 

Warlords didn't give affection. 

Soundwave was left nearly alone, with only Laserbeak for company.

And now? 

Laserbeak is unconscious, deep in her own mind to heal, and he can't feel her. 

In this moment, he is alone. 

Except for Ratchet. Who, still, is giving him a... strange amount of attention. 

Is this just how Ratchet treats his patients now? Medics in general haven't been coping well with the massive death toll; Soundwave's seen more than one of them turn excessively clingy, with a couple on record as locking several patients in their medbay and attempting to keep said patients inside and away from the war. Usually in the middle of a mental breakdown. Ratchet doesn't seem to be having a breakdown of any sort, but he doesn't exactly seem the type to calmly put up with- 

Well, with being held tight by an enemy spymaster in his lap.

This is strange. This is a strange situation by all standards. 

Strange enough that it takes Soundwave a good few kliks to locate the right phrase to ask about it. Breakdown, asking "so... is this just what we're all doing now?" in a suitably befuddled tone. Granted, he was asking about a situation involving a large number of drunk Vehicons and way too much insulation foam, but there's nothing in the recording to indicate that. 

 

Ratchet pauses his stroking of Soundwave's back spines, then shrugs obviously enough for the spymaster to feel it, aiming for a casual air. "Wasn't what I planned on, but you're clingin' onto me tight enough that, yes, this is what we're doing. Don't bother denyin' it, you need contact. It's a basic  _need_ of all social species, sapient or not, almost as important for mental and physical health as proper recharge. If you aren't comfortable with me doing this, I can go get someone else, but... I'm not sure I'd get any volunteers, and that would probably be uncomfortable for all involved. War and all. Unless you want me to go kidnap a Vehicon?" 

He's joking, of course, he's not about to go kidnap a Vehicon.

He's not really expecting Soundwave to  _giggle_ in response, a muffled but definite noise against his chassis, narrow shoulders shaking for just an instant.

He's definitely not expecting Soundwave to start shaking again and not stop. 

 

It's the  _image._ The mental image of Ratchet with a blanket-wrapped Vehicon over one shoulder, trying to explain to his Prime what he is doing with said Vehicon. It's  _funny,_ and Soundwave isn't prepared for funny. He's caught off guard by the humor. 

More caught off guard by the shuddering that sweeps through his frame at the realization that Ratchet,  _Ratchet,_ the only known living Autobot medic, cares more for him than Megatron. Maybe it's just because Soundwave is his patient, but he  _cares,_ genuinely so, he actually  _cares_. And Megatron- 

Megatron  _attacked_ him. 

Megatron  _struck_ him for doing nothing more than trying to protect his computers, then, in response to his -understandable!- reaction of concern and avoidance, decided to punish him. By  _raping_ him.  _Him_. 

He'd almost understood Megatron's treatment of Starscream. It wasn't exactly  _good,_ far from it, but Starscream had always been incredibly antagonistic and became much more so once Megatron's behavior became more erratic. It made some degree of sense for Megatron's violent behavior towards Starscream to escalate in response. 

But Soundwave hadn't  _done_ anything! He'd always, always,  _always_ done as Megatron asked, he'd given his  _life_ to- to the Cause, but to Megatron even more so. His mind, his frame, his loyalty- everything. Megatron had only to ask for something and Soundwave would give it. Primus... even like  _this._ If Megatron had asked, in a more stable mental state, to interface with him... 

Soundwave would have been  _willing._ It's a sudden realization, but, yes, he would have been willing before. Because Megatron wouldn't hurt him. 

Because Megatron  _would not_ hurt him. 

And yet he had. 

_Why?_

He needs to know. Soundwave's claws tighten onto white plating, and he delves into his sound files as quickly as he can, trying to pull up something to ask with. Unfortunately, the recording he plays is the first that comes up for the keyword 'explain'. It's also tagged with 'intimidating'. 

Megatron's voice, dark, hissing, and ominous, snarling _"_ _explain"_ in a tone that makes most people clamp their plating and oblige. And then he's laughing again, quietly, or at least something  _similar_ to laughing, because  _he startled himself._ With his own recording. 

Ratchet, too, except Ratchet's impulsive response isn't to jump or cringe. It's to wrap both arms around him, flare up, and curl in on him. 

_Protectively._

...shouldn't he be out of optical lubricant by now? 

 

Ratchet holds Soundwave close for a few moments, deliberately relaxing his plating in a nonverbal "it's safe" reassurance, then loosens his grip to reach into subspace. "Hey, spook. I found something for you, if you want to read it. Old data on dark energon- someone's studies into the mental effects. Written by a mech running experiments, trying to find a cure. Says it was on condemned criminals, but... Functionalist Autobot experiments. We  _both_ know 'condemned criminals' is code for 'easy low-caste targets'. Morals of the tests aside, it  _is_ good data, if you want it. This is a copy, you can keep it, and it's unmodified from the original. About the best explanation I got for Megatron's- everything lately.

"If you want me to explain  _you,_ that's harder, but I have an estimate. I don't have many details about your past, but I know -everyone knows- that you were a gladiator. And  _that_ makes for a whole Pit of a mess of tangled coding. When someone's been attacked enough, spent a long period of time in an area where most or all of the other beings there would gladly harm them, it starts to rewrite how they respond to the presence of others. Tends to develop into touch-aversion if not taken care of, and... Megatronus didn't exactly seem like the sort who'd know how to help with that. It's especially bad in more delicate frametypes- which you are. Fraggin' deadly, but if someone gets ahold of you, you got some issues. Mechs like, say, Bulkhead tend ta be less prone to touch-aversion because they're more equipped to get someone offa them. You? You probably got instincts on high-alert ta keep you safe. And then, with all this stress..." 

Engine rumbling quietly, Ratchet strokes Soundwave's back in the same spots he's been touching, the thicker plating around the bases of his spines. Neutral ground. Slightly more personal than an arm or shoulder touch, but nowhere that people tend to be prone to protecting. He keeps his voice carefully neutral as well, professional but not overly so, presenting the facts as they are. "...that touch-starvation I mentioned can start to come to the surface in response. Especially with the contact we already had from me movin' you. My guess here is your subconscious latched onto me as a potential source of unthreatening contact, especially since we haven't spent much time near each other and haven't made any particular effort to murder each other in the past. Honestly? You shouldn't fight that. I know it's strange, it's weird on my end, but the contact is good for you and will help lower your stress. Might help your pain, too, this sort of attention can trigger the release of endorphines.

Leaning back, he makes an effort to meet Soundwave's gaze, albeit a short effort- Soundwave was barely glancing up at him, only a sliver of one optic visible. "You have my word, I  _will_ leave you alone if you want me to. However, if you want me to stay, I am willing. I have no complaints, I am not uncomfortable, and I will not manipulate or take advantage of you. Soundwave, I am a  _medic._ I  _heal._ That is my job, that is my  _purpose,_ and it is one I gladly embrace. Are we clear?"

Soundwave is looking at him now, with one optic at least, still mostly nuzzled into his front, and Ratchet offers- not quite a smile, but a vaguely approving look, as Soundwave nods once. "Good. Now- you alright with stayin' in my lap?" 

 

Yes. 

No. 

He's... not sure. 

The sensation of  _dependency_ is... strange. Unpleasant. But he likes the warmth, the quiet sounds of Ratchet's frame working, and the firm weight around him from the blankets and Ratchet's arms. Ratchet gave him blankets, including an electric blanket, has been exceedingly gentle with him, and- no matter what Ratchet says, this is far more than a medic could really be demanded to do with a mech from the opposing faction. Medics are supposed to attend to a captive's physical health, and at least make an effort not to  _worsen_ their mental health. This... is a bit more than that. 

It's nice. Confusing, but nice. 

Not something he can easily figure out, nor something he wants to focus on figuring out. He has no objections, and the physical sensations are pleasant. That's enough for right now. 

There's something more important to focus on. 

Except- ah. 

Leaning back slightly, Soundwave pats Ratchet's side, playing a quick mutter of "settle down" by way of reassurance, and winds his data-cables more firmly up Ratchet's frame. Not enough to truly restrain him, but enough to get a firm hold of him, enough that he could lift or throw the medic if he wanted  ~~and wasn't so exhausted~~. There. Control. Ratchet tenses for a moment, but relaxes again shortly, not seeming to mind. Therefore, Soundwave accepts the data-pad and curls up to read it. 

It does appear to be a valid study. Many, many, many test subjects, exquisitely detailed, of sapient and nonsapient varieties. Soundwave is in no mood to read the particulars of so many gruesome deaths, but he skims, long enough to be sure of the amount and surface validity of the data. From there, on to the summary report. 

Grim. 

No major successes. 

_"...in short, an established dark energon infection cannot be cured. It is possible to contain and remove the infection if it is caught quickly enough, but removal is impossible without major deficits once the infection reaches the processor, and outright impossible once spark contamination occurs. In cases of direct spark contamination, this is extremely rapid. Subjects which have experienced direct spark contamination are irreversibly infected almost the instant it touches their spark, certainly more rapidly than any curative efforts can be mounted. Even efforts mounted immediately after contamination cannot move fast enough. Curiously, behavioral abnormalities are greatly delayed in these cases. Dark energon infection normally presents behavioral abnormalities long before full spark infection, but direct spark infection results in an almost symbiotic effect, with massively increased physical abilities presenting far before behavioral changes. However, no matter how normally the subject is acting, behavioral decay is inevitable. No method has been found to prevent or even inhibit this without severe and usually fatal spark damage, often from the backlash."_

That's certainly... decisive. Almost a relief, knowing that there's nothing he could have done to help Megatron once- 

But no, he should have  _prevented_ this, should have seen Megatron's  _obsession_ for what it was and stopped him from plunging that shard into his chassis. He should have  _seen-_

-is that last section bolded? It is. People don't generally use bold lettering in anything like a scientific paper. Curiosity alone has Soundwave reading further. 

_"Let me be clear._

_" **There is no hope.** Once dark energon infection progresses to the processor, it cannot be stopped save by entirely removing the infection portions of the processor. If it has spread to the spark,  **nothing** can stop it except death. _

_"If you are reading this in hopes of assisting a loved one, I am sorry. All I can offer is the assurance that they are in no pain at this point. I cannot offer you a cure, nor can any science I know of. **Advanced dark energon infection has no cure, and you need to leave.** Regardless of how they have treated you and others up to this point, they will hurt you. They are not the being you formerly knew. Beings twisted by dark energon are  **monsters.** I can find no other way to describe it. Those who survive the initial stages become violent, and with that violence comes a strange form of cunning. The creature left in your loved one's body wants to hurt you, your friends, everyone it can get its figurative or literal claws into. Forgive my dramatic phrasing, but you must understand- _

_" **You need to run.** If you retain anything from this, it is that you need to run. Please. For all the lives lost to this eldritch scourge. _

_"Run. Do not look back._

_"~Spinflask, head researcher at-"_

He knows that lab. It went down during the war, torn apart by furious newly-branded Decepticons who remembered seeing its goons drag their friends away. 

"Condemned criminals" his aft. But that's not important right now. He has no energy to spare for outrage, he's been over this and a thousand other outrages like it before. 

Soundwave reads the last few sentences over twice more, letting it all sink in, then shuts off the screen and puts the 'pad aside. Aside from the information about the speed of infection, there's little in here that he didn't already know or at least heavily suspect. 

Megatron is gone.

His frame is still moving, but Megatron is as dead as if someone had ripped his spark out and snuffed it in their claws. It's almost a relief to have the affirmation of that, almost, because if Megatron is gone it means that Megatron didn't hurt him, Megatron didn't betray him, Megatron didn't break a promise, didn't- 

But this also means that it was his fault. If he'd stopped Megatron, if he'd talked to Megatron as best he could or presented all the data he could get or just outright  _hidden_ the dark energon, then Megatron wouldn't have  _faded._

If Soundwave had only had the sense to  _stop him,_ to head off the  _visible_ and  _concerning_ obsession rather than dismissing it as a coping mechanism, this wouldn't have happened. 

It's his fault. He should have seen, should have realized, should have noticed  _far_ before now that Megatron wasn't acting normal, wasn't acting like himself, wasn't acting  _sane,_ and either he could have stopped it from happening or at least stopped  _blindly_ trusting Megatron not to hurt him when it  _wasn't Megatron any more._

This is  _his fault,_ no one else's, of  _course_ Megatron did something stupid, he was a miner, a  _poet,_ thrown into a war at the head of the rebel side, that was an immense amount of stress, of  _course_ he'd been vulnerable to manipulation by a seemingly-all-powerful spirit of chaos, of  _course_ he'd done something impulsive and gotten himself hurt, Megatronus had always been charging helmfirst into situations and Megatron wasn't much better, of  _course-_

He should have stopped this, and he's  _sorry._ Not only for himself but for his Lord, his companion, his  _friend,_ the mech he should have been  _protecting,_ who he'd all but  _abandoned_ as he tried to bury himself in his research and away from what they'd done to their home. He shouldn't have let this happen, it's no one's fault but  _his,_ because Megatron would  _never_ have hurt him this way, because that wasn't Megatron, because that was the  _monster_ he let overtake his Lord's frame without even  _trying_ to stop it-

Soundwave's claws dig into his own plating and he  _keens,_ a high, shaky, broken sound, plating clamping down tight against his shuddering frame. Curling into himself and away from the servos trying to pry his claws from his own sides, he whines and shudders and  _snaps,_ fangs clamping on thin air in protest at Ratchet  _touching_ him. Never mind that his cables are still around Ratchet's frame and keeping him from moving away. 

 

"Soundwave? Hey, hey- c'mon, spook, you quit that, got enough cuts without addin' yer own- c'mon, Soundwave-" Ratchet mutters, prying Soundwave's claws up and away from his own frame, and holds the spymaster's narrow servos in his own so he can prevent any further damage. "Ah, dammit- you stop that! I can feel the guilt from here, and you have  _nothing_ to be guilty about. Megatron was an  _idiot_ an' that dark energon is his own slaggin' fault. Ain't yer fault he did somethin' moronic. Come on, mech, stop curlin' like that- gonna hurt yerself. Open yer optics. Look at me, spook, hey- dammit, Soundwave-" 

 


	4. Definitely not good.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is currently being edited for tone, characterization, and writing style. Latest edit April 8th. 
> 
> Soundwave finds a distraction.  
> It doesn't entirely work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smallish rape flashback in this chapter. Read with caution.

 

Ratchet wouldn't have any actual hope of restraining Soundwave, not if the spymaster really wanted to escape, but the half-sparked squirming is easy enough to contain. Holding Soundwave's servos firmly in his own, he moves his wrists so that it's the plating of his arms that the narrow claws scratch instead of his servos, then just holds on and lets Soundwave tire himself out. The datacable around his frame squeezes firmly a couple of times, but never tight enough to hurt, and Soundwave never does anything other than try to get his claws back to his own frame. Distress, but not distress at being held.

Once his patient-slash-captive stops fighting, Ratchet settles the claws against his own sides, offering Soundwave something to grip as he slowly strokes trembling purple-grey spines. "Easy, Soundwave. You stop that guilt, now. This isn't your fault. Like I said- Megatron was an  _idiot._ Maybe not all the time, but this whole thing is down to his own stupid choice, you are  _not_ at fault for what he did. Are we clear, spook? You get all that guilt outta yer field before I gotta start throwin' it out."  

 

No. 

As nice as that sounds, it's not that  _simple_. Ratchet doesn't know the facts, doesn't know the history, doesn't- 

...wait. How is he intending to throw an emotion? That's not something that people can do. Soundwave cocks his helm, analyzing Ratchet's tone, and comes to the conclusion that the medic isn't joking. Then... how...

Somewhere between angry at himself, confused by the suggestion, and defiant at being told what to do with his own emotions, Soundwave deliberately surges the guilt-undertone against Ratchet, staring him down in a challenge.  _What are you going to do?_

 

Ratchet isn't kidding. He's a medic, and a thoroughly experienced one, he knows more than one trick to play. He can't do much about the emotions in someone's  _processor,_ but sometimes shoving it out of someone's field can help, or at least confuse them enough to get them focused on something else. His frame comes equipped to project his field much further and much stronger than most, a medic's trick to calm patients and dissuade attack, and he puts it to use with Soundwave. A powerful surge of  _reassurance/assuredness/comfort_ , strong enough that it physically pushes Soundwave's field back, leaving the spymaster looking a bit like he's had a hurricane blown in his face all at once. 

Smirking, Ratchet rubs firmly around the bases of Soundwave's spines, waiting for him to look a bit less wind-blown. "Told you. I figured you'd know by now, spook, medics don't bluff about their own abilities. You okay there?" 

 

Soundwave makes a quiet, vaguely dazed static-pop noise, blinking hard, then slumps against Ratchet's frame and buzzes static at the medic. Well. Apparently that is what Ratchet intends to do. 

Startlingly effective. He  _does_ actually feel like Ratchet has thrown all his emotions out. Not just out of his field, out of his processor. Which... works for him, actually, he didn't want those emotions anyway. Useless, distracting chemical signals. He's not "okay", no, but he's... neutral. Acceptable. Not actively crying or experiencing any significant desire to kill something. 

Most importantly, able to think. Specifically, about Ratchet's insistence that he isn't at fault for this. Which is... inaccurate. Soundwave  _should_ have seen what was happening. At the very least, he should have had the sense to leave once Megatron became unstable. Should have left when Megatron  _struck_ him. Should have had the sense not to put himself in a room, alone, with Megatron. To claim otherwise would be, quite simply, incorrect. 

But... the fault is not entirely his. Megatronshould have known better than to expose himself to dark energon. Soundwave is at fault to some extent for Megatron's degenerating mental state, and thereby for his own attack, and Megatron is also responsible. Exact percentages of faults can be calculated later and may not actually be all that important. As for now, he never answered Ratchet, did he? Soundwave blinks a couple of times, then ex-vents heavily and deliberately lets his field uncurl around Ratchet by way of answering.

Whether or not he's okay depends on one's definition of okay. He's... blank. Tired, sore, and cold. Laserbeak against his chassis, alive, but offering him no presence and no comfort. He's in the Autobot medic's lap, curled up, cables wrapped around the larger mech's frame. And, as he thinks on it, Ratchet pulls the blankets up and around him. Including an electric blanket, which draws a near-silent purr out of him as the warmth settles in. 

Situational assessment mixed. 

Mental state neutral. 

Tired. 

Soundwave curls further into Ratchet's frame, ducking his helm under the blanket, and in doing so notices that one of the claw marks on his thigh has opened up. He's bleeding again, sluggishly but steadily, an even drip-drip-drip of energon onto- it  _would_ be onto the berth, except that he's in Ratchet's lap, so he's bleeding onto Ratchet's leg. Not only is that a health risk for him if it doesn't stop soon, he really doubts that Ratchet is enjoying being bled on. 

 

Ratchet is not. A quiet noise in the back of his throat to avoid startling the spymaster, then Ratchet sighs and leans back, speaking as gently as he can. "I can feel you bleeding, spook. Alright if I take a look, see what reopened? I'm guessing it might be an opened wound on your thigh. All I need to do is get a look, maybe add some sealant over it. Just need you to shift and move these blankets... all right, Soundwave? Let me see you," he coaxes, stroking gently at Soundwave's flank, and sighs when the spymaster doesn't move. It's understandable, the reluctance, but he's going to have to coax it aside. "Here- you hitch those cables up further, 'round my chassis. Check my sparkrate. If I were up to something, my sparkrate would increase... you know that." 

 

Soundwave doesn't want to. He braces himself in place for a moment, tense and still, refusing to move. 

Not for long, though. 

He can't risk upsetting Ratchet. A token resistance is hopefully acceptable, he  _has_ to stand up for himself just this fraction, but he can't fight. 

Not only because of his physical condition, either. That would be upsetting enough, but this? Having to comply to ensure his continuing medical treatment, to ensure that he and Laserbeak aren't simply left to fend for themselves, potentially abandoned to the tender mercies of the Wreckers?

Humiliating. 

But he obeys. He shrugs the blankets back, he leans back, and he splays his thighs out around Ratchet's lap, making things as easy as possible in hopes of removing any potential ire at his resistance. 

To his surprise and relief, Ratchet does  _not_ immediately touch him.

 

All Ratchet does is look, studying the pulled-open wound high on Soundwave's inner thigh, then deliberately avert his optics and pull the blankets back up. "There we go. Like I thought, you pulled one of those wounds back open. Not surprising. Now, Soundwave, do I have your permission to deal with that? All I need to do is coat one of my fingertips in sealant and run it over that gash. Should take about a nanoklik, and I can do it without looking. You can stay under those blankets. Is that all right, Soundwave?" 

Not wanting to push, he waits as Soundwave curls up again, carefully not obstructing him as he tucks himself back under the blankets. Not that Ratchet blames him, it's probably comfortable as Pit under there. 

 

 

 

[EDITING STOPPED HERE]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Soundwave blinks at the medic for a moment, then accepts the bottle and quickly applies enough sealant to close the wound again. Simple enough- the gash is already mostly closed, it's just opened a bit in a couple of spots. It doesn't even hurt that much. It is... not fun to be touching his inner thigh, though. It is really just not fun. It's painful, and he doesn't  _want_ to be touched  _there_ and he- 

The brush hits a particularly sensitive node, and Soundwave's servo twitches hard enough that the brush just goes flying. Ratchet catches it, but- oops. Baring his fangs slightly in a gesture of nervousness, Soundwave cringes back into himself, optics wide and uncertain. Dropping/throwing things is probably... not a good way to get Ratchet to not be angry with him. And should he- should he apologize, or- 

 

"Woah there, spook, easy. I'm not going to hurt you for a reflexive twitch. I'm not going to hurt you, period. And since you seem to be kinda confused by the concept of me actually acting like a  _decent_ person, think of it this way: if I hurt you, I just have to put you back together again. Waste of supplies and waste of my time. Now... you okay if I go sit somewhere else? I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but I'm somethin' like twice your fraggin' age. I haven't had a proper oil bath in far too long, and my knees are not appreciating me sitting like this." Ratchet mutters, though his voice isn't too harsh- he's not upset. He's just going to put the cap back on the sealant and... not mention anything further. Soundwave probably doesn't want to think about anything to do with the clawmarks on his thighs. "And you let me know if you want me to shut up. I'm talking because I have a feeling you might want to know why I'm doing everything, but I'll stop if you want." the medic explains, then shifts off the berth and stands up when Soundwave scoots out of his lap. Stretching slightly, he gets the kinks out of his joints, then sits down a short distance away from the spymaster. "I don't think it's a good idea for me to leave you alone right now. I'll just sit over here and work on a few things. You can look at what I'm doing, if you want... I'm just translating some medical documents. You wanna see? Some idiot got himself chewed up by a Sparkeater that somehow didn't kill him, and this is how they put 'im back together. It's not confidential because, although there are photographs that could theoretically identify this mech despite his name not being included, he is most likely very dead. Signed a consent form, too, it's this bit. Just don't read over my shoulder. You can read next to my shoulder, but I am not going to sit here with you right behind me." he declares, leaning against the wall again and spreading a few data-pads out across his legs. 

 

Well. That's interesting. Not only is Ratchet not at all upset (the grumbling, from what he's seen in the past, is standard mode), the medic is now... offering him a distraction. 

Okay. He... he really doesn't want to think about... about anything. He... really doesn't want to... he... he  _can't_ think about... 

Except that forcibly trying to not think about something is about the same as  _trying_ to think about something, and... and he keeps... 

 

"Soundwave. Hey. You stop that. And... come over here, alright? Come here. Sit right next to me, look at this. Don't focus on trying not to think, just focus on what I'm doin'. Okay?" Ratchet coaxes, tilting one data-pad slightly to let Soundwave get a look. "Here- look at this. See? Sparkeater got his chamber half torn off and they had to extract that from the thing's jaws. Apparently they managed to kill it by dropping a very large blade on its neck with half a building's worth of weight behind the blade and chopping its helm off. Don't envy the medics who had to work on prying the spark chamber back out of that thing. Good look at a Sparkeater's jaws, though. Y'ever see one of those things?" 

 

Actually, yes. Not only has he seen a Sparkeater, he's fought one. And won. Barely, but he won. Soundwave nods slightly, edging over to Ratchet, then touches a piece of armor on his lower chassis and makes a clawing motion before tapping a small scar on his shoulder. He still has claw-scars up under his chassis armor from the creature doing its best to rip his chassis open, and- and Ratchet doesn't quite seem to be understanding the gesture, so as it's just a small side piece of plating, the spymaster pops it off to reveal a section of the scars. Clicking softly, he glances over at Ratchet, turning slightly to let the medic see better. He's a little bit proud of these scars, honestly- he fought a Sparkeater and won, and he didn't die immediately afterwards, and that is absolutely something to be proud of. So he's going to show off a little bit, and... maybe think about that particular accomplishment rather than thinking about... about...

 

"Are you tellin' me you  _fought_ a Sparkeater? Solo?" Ratchet asks, incredulous, then chuckles and shakes his helm slightly. "Do you have any idea- what the slag were you even  _doing_ near one? Did you- hang on. Those look real old... Pit fight?" he asks softly, slowly venturing a servo towards the spymaster's side but not getting anywhere near until the slender mech nods a tiny bit and offers the scarred portion of his frame for closer inspection. Placing his fingertips lightly on the scar, Ratchet carefully inspects the mark, still looking a bit impressed. "These look like they must've just about hit your chamber... impressive. You proud of these? And, no, I'm not gonna yell at you for that. I yell at people for doing stupid things that get them into scar-causing situations, but not for being proud of not dying. Fighting a Sparkeater and not dying is damned impressive. Pit, I know mechs who'd keep that armor off on purpose just to show the scars off, but then I gotta yell at them for being idiots and leaving important bits unprotected." he mutters, then raises an optic ridge slightly when he feels Soundwave lean into him. "Uh... you leanin' into me on purpose, or are you losing your balance a bit?" 

 

Soundwave perks his spines and back plating up a bit in a small proud gesture, somewhat enjoying the acknowledgement of his accomplishment. He  _killed_ a Sparkeater, and that is a very impressive thing to do. He has a right to be proud of himself. 

Though... why is he leaning into the touch to his side? It's not entirely conscious, but it's not... it's not a loss of balance, either. He's leaning into Ratchet's servo. Slightly on purpose. 

And he's really not sure what he thinks of that. 

Tilting his helm slightly, Soundwave blinks down at Ratchet's servo, then slowly meets the medic's optics. Is... is this... okay? Should he be concerned about... about anything? Possible... repercussions? There are... usually repercussions to things involving other people. Especially when it involves him actually interacting with other people. He's just...  _really_ not sure what to do with a situation that involves someone touching him in a way that... that isn't intended to hurt him. This... actually feels good, but he doesn't know what to do with... with Ratchet touching him like... 

He's very confused. That's probably the best way to explain it. 

He is so very confused. 

 

"On purpose, huh? Alright then. I can keep my servo here if you'd like, Soundwave, or I'll back off if you want. And you can think about it for a little while... I don't need an answer right away." Ratchet offers, shifting a bit so that he'll be comfortable sitting here for awhile. "Your frame is still wanting some contact, huh? That's alright, and... it's really not surprising. Touch-starvation giving its opinion again. Just try to relax, alright? I'm not going to hurt you for needing contact. You just think about this for a bit and decide what you want, Soundwave. Okay?" 

A second later, though, he has to answer an urgent (yelled) COMM from Bulkhead. "Ah, dammit. Bulkhead just called me. Apparently Wheeljack is out in the desert blowing things up and he just halfway blew himself up. Now, Soundwave... I really don't want to have to leave you alone, but Bulkhead sounds a bit anxious and that means Wheeljack is probably badly hurt. I need to go and deal with those idiots. Just- stay here. If you need to dig your claws into something, make it the berthpad. You can rip it up all you want. There's energon in the cabinet, there's a couple of other blankets nearby, and you can get whatever you want out of any of those cabinets. Try not to walk too much, and don't put too much weight on that leg. I'll put a crutch or a brace or something of the sort together after Wheeljack is done being a literal bleeding imbecile. Now- you can use those buttons if you need something, alright? I just have to go and get Wheeljack back here and keep him from bleeding out. If you need something right away while I'm not here, you can... well, you can go and ask Optimus. He won't hurt you. He's very kind, and he would have been in here to check on you if I hadn't told him to leave you alone. Here's the sealant in case you squirm around enough to pop a wound open, try not to do that, and  _don't_ think about what happened until someone is back in here to keep you from clawing your helm open. Read the reports about the idiot who fought a Sparkeater, and- here. I have absolutely no idea what these are about, I haven't translated them yet. You can work on those." Ratchet declares, placing a stack of data-pads near the spymaster and standing up. "I will be right back. I have no idea when, since I don't know how badly hurt Wheeljack is, but- I'll come check on you as soon as he isn't bleeding any more. Idiot Wrecker." he mutters, stalking out the door, then pauses right outside. "Hey- door locks, remember? You can lock this if you want. And, uh- the humans occasionally get into the air vents, usually Miko. If someone yells at you from the air vent, please try not to jump too badly. There's a shutter you can close over the vent if Miko gets too annoying. She means well, but she's a bit... blunt sometimes." the medic sighs, then meets Soundwave's optics for a moment. "I'll be right back. I promise." 

 

Soundwave watches the door close, then curls up into a ball and pulls the blankets up over himself, trying to block the world out. After a moment or two to process just how much he wants that servo back on his side, he slowly replaces his armor, then tugs the electric blanket closer and wraps it around himself. Very gently scooping Laserbeak up, he tucks her under the blanket against his chassis, then somewhat hesitantly takes the data-pads. Hmm. Completely un-translated from a sectional dialect. He can read some of it, but some of it is going to require some of his translation scripts, and- 

His attention caught by the new project, Soundwave settles into a (reasonably) comfortable position, intently reading the data-pad and selecting any sections that he can just manually translate. The wording may not be precisely the same, but as long as there are no puns (very unlikely in a medical document), that won't matter. 

After a few minutes, though, his claws start to falter. Because he's just... just found the... 

He keeps finding the word for rape. And he's really starting to wonder what kind of document he's translating, but it's definitely a clinical term, and he... he can't stop now. Partly because he can't put down a good project once he's started, partly because he... well, he hasn't actually read anything on... 

He's about 80% certain that this is a document detailing the treatment of- well, it uses the word "survivors", but... this is something about how to treat rape victims. And Soundwave has never read much of anything on- on this subject. He... he managed to recover reasonably well in the Pit after  _exhibition_ matches, and he just didn't want to read anything that would bring the memories back when he was in a place that actually had medical data available. He'd- he'd been okay when he'd had the data, and he'd never needed it, but- 

But right now he is very much not okay. This... might be useful. At the very least, he can try to- try to learn something. Maybe he can... figure out how to... how to make his spark stop _hurting_ like this.

 

 

 

When Ratchet gets back, Soundwave is sitting completely still, and he doesn't respond to the medic's greeting. 

Vaguely concerned, Ratchet moves a bit closer to the spymaster, then slowly climbs onto the end of the berth and just lightly places a finger on the data-pad Soundwave is holding. "Whatcha got there, spook? Let's see what you- oh. Damn. Sorry, Soundwave, I... didn't know what that was. I just have a stash of medical data-pads that I've been gradually translating. Are you... okay? You still with me?" he whispers, then shifts to get a better look at what the spymaster is reading when Soundwave gives him a distracted little nod.  _Okay, you aren't locked in a waking nightmare. So what has you so focused on this? Are you- oh._ "You... found the bit about the follow-up exam. Soundwave, you really don't need to worry about that- that won't be for another few months, and like I said, I can sedate you. If you want, I'll just explain the exact procedure, get your consent, and then put you under for the entire thing. And, hey, I can film it so you can be sure I didn't mess around. Not that I would, but I figure you'd probably want confirmation. But you really don't need to think about that right now, Soundwave. And... I'm not going to force you into that exam. I'm not. Now... I want you to forget about that for a few months. When it's time, I'll just try everything I can to persuade you that it's a good idea. And by that, I do not mean I will use pain or fear to motivate you. I mean I will find every bit of medical data available to me and use that, my experience, and logic to convince you. That's all. And, if you still just can't stand the idea, I won't touch you. I am not a rapist. I am not going to force you to let me anywhere near your valve. Alright?"

 

Soundwave slowly raises his optics from the data-pad and blinks at Ratchet, processing, then nods slightly and gives a very soft little click. Yes. That's... that's alright. He's not going to let Ratchet near his valve, but... he can put up with the medic trying to convince him. Slowly looking back at the data-pad, he distractedly traces a fingertip along the edge, then tilts it slightly so that Ratchet can see it a bit better. He's translated just about the entire thing, while keeping the original in a backup file, and it's now easily readable. Giving an inquiring little sound, he offers it to the medic, wanting to show off what he's done and- and, honestly, maybe seeking a little bit of approval. He's looking for anything he can get that might let him feel a bit better. 

 

Ratchet reads the data-pad for a moment, then glances up at Soundwave, voice soft and soothing as he tries to get the spymaster back onto a slightly more pleasant topic. "You're welcome to keep reading that, if you like- looks like it's accurate enough. And- hm, you got a good one. A lot of these are either just how to treat an injury or how to treat the psychological repercussions, this is both. And... good work on translating that. These technical documents can be a bit tricky, some of the words don't actually translate at all." Ratchet remarks, tapping on one of the words in question, then raises an optic ridge and chuckles softly when a tiny window pops up with a definition. "You're thorough, aren't you?" 

 

Yes. Always thorough. Pleased by what seems to be honest praise, Soundwave nods slightly and offers just a little smile, then scrolls down slightly and points to a phrase that, so far, he hasn't managed to figure out. He has a few possible translations under it, but none of them quite seem to fit. He's really not sure what this means. He can probably figure it out with a bit more work, but there's no point in wrestling with something if it can be easily translated by another. Not efficient. "Prr?" 

 

"Ah, here? No wonder you can't translate this. I've seen it in a couple more of these documents, translated once- it's actually been run through three different languages, and it started out in a dialect of Old Cybertronian used almost entirely for scientific pursuits. I'm not sure an exact translation is even possible, but it refers to the connection between the physical mind, the metaphorical mind, and the body. It's... basically a statement of the idea that one's emotions, feelings, and apprehensions can affect one's frame. It links back to an old study regarding whether or not negative emotions can affect a patient's recovery, and the answer is a resounding yes. Basically, someone with no real will to live isn't likely to live very long. There are a few cases of mechs who lost everything and just... faded away. Sparks flickered out, processors shut down, body just failing bit by bit. Honestly, I... do have a note in your file about watching you for signs of that. So far you seem to be doing alright in the not-dying-of-depression department. You're awake, you're at least reasonably alert, you're able to function enough to translate this, and your optics don't have the 'I am willing to die now' look that I've seen a few times. I'll be perfectly honest- I don't know how well you'll do in future. I don't know. I will say this, though: I am fragging  _stubborn,_ and you are not going to die of a pure lack of will to live. I have enough will to override any level of depression. You got that? No losing the desire to live on my watch. And, hey- you want more of these data-pads to translate? Give me a servo, keep yourself interested- we both get somethin' out of it." Ratchet offers softly, slowly placing a couple more data-pads over by Soundwave. "There you go. Now... I gotta go deal with Wheeljack. You okay?" 

 

Yes. He's reasonably okay. And now he has more things to pay attention to, so- he's alright. Soundwave nods slightly, then picks up one of the data-pads and activates it, immediately starting to translate it. Good, this one doesn't seem to have anything to do with interface equipment. Something about raising sparklings. Which, technically, does have something to do with interface equipment- that is intended to be reproductive equipment, after all. 

Never mind that, though.

 

Somewhere along the third data-pad (physical rehabilitation after extensive limb damage,  useful given the state his leg is currently in) Soundwave falls asleep. He ends up curled into a little ball with Laserbeak clutched to his chassis, but he doesn't stay still for too long. 

About an hour later, the spymaster's claws start to shred into the berth, and he starts to whimper very softly in fear.

_Claws ripping through his leg, shredding his thigh open and ripping out muscle cables so he can't fight can't run can't do anything but whimper pleadingly and then scream in pain as something crunches in his abdomen under pressure from a mech far, far much stronger than him-_

_Fangs sinking into the back of his neck, deep, the stab of pain nothing compared to his stomach and leg and then all of that nothing at all compared to the ripping agony in his **valve-**_

And then he hits the floor and snaps awake with a panicked little cry. 

For at least five minutes, he just curls himself up and hides, vents heaving, panting very softly and trying to calm himself. He would have preferred to stay there longer, maybe just- just lie there until Ratchet comes, but he needs to get up now before the roiling nausea in his tank gets any worse. He'd really rather not purge his tank, he hurts enough already. Whimpering softly, the spymaster slowly pushes himself up to his knees, then blinks and looks down when a distinct wetness registers. Did he already- no. He's bleeding again. Something's torn open. Not... not really surprising. There are fragments of berth padding caught in the joints of his claws, he's obviously been... probably moving more in reality than in his dream, given that there's _no heavy weight pinning him down_ in reality and- 

 _No, no. Bad train of thought. Bad. Very bad. Not productive. Not good. Focus on- on Laserbeak._  

Laserbeak is still on the berth, fortunately, and she isn't hurt. Even dreaming and terrified, his host coding was strong enough to keep his claws away from the tiny frame pressed against his stomach. Pulling her closer, Soundwave gently looks his little one over, then hugs her to his chassis and slowly stands up. He's still panting so hard his shoulders are heaving, and he's still so on edge that he might as well be standing on a scalpel-tip, but he- he's bleeding, and badly, and- and he needs to- he needs to go get Ratchet and get himself patched up. He hurts. He wants this to stop and he wants to stop bleeding because he really doesn't want to die. He's not sure how he would feel about passing out (no dreams, at least), but he'd rather not pass out and then bleed to death. 

Limping over to the door, Soundwave slowly opens it and cautiously peers out, looking around for a moment before stepping outside. No one here. No one visible. Just- just empty hallway. That's okay. That's good, in fact. Now... he's not entirely certain where everything is, but he does know where the main room is. Ratchet will... probably be there. Yes. That makes sense. Nodding slightly in a tiny gesture meant to increase his own confidence a bit, he slowly creeps off along the hallway, one servo braced on the wall. He's found that affirmative gestures in response to his own decisions, while a bit childish, often help him feel a bit better when he's starting to feel like he's trying to swim. Which, for the record, does not work. He can't swim. Not in water, at least. Mercury, maybe- he's never tried. And he suddenly wants to try swimming in mercury. Not possible on this planet, but something to consider. 

After he's done being in pain and bleeding down his leg. 

When he slinks out into the main room, he's not alone. Optimus is- uh oh. Optimus is standing at a console and he doesn't want to be here with Optimus, but- but maybe he can just slink away before- 

Soundwave tries to slink away without being noticed. It does not work. Mostly because, the second he tries to back away, a servo lands on his shoulder. A large, powerful servo. Soundwave  _cringes,_ baring his fangs in a gesture that is, honestly, a gesture of terror, then slowly turns his helm to the side just enough to see who's- 

Bulkhead. 

This is probably going to hurt.

 

"Bulkhead, I wouldn't suggest-" Optimus starts, then sighs, slowly moving a bit closer when his warning is too late. "Bulkhead, please remove your servo... Soundwave looks like he is about to either attack you or run, and I don't think either of those will end well. Please let him go. Soundwave, are you-" 

Apparently he gets a bit too close. The next thing he's aware of is Soundwave launching at his face. 

 

Soundwave whimpers quietly as the servo on his shoulder tightens, then hunches into himself slightly and hisses up at Bulkhead, ever-so-softly. It's intended to be a warning that no, he does not like this, but then someone much larger than him is far too close to him and looking down at him and- 

Grey plating and sharp fangs and glowing purple optics flash through his mind, then Soundwave snarls in panic and  _lunges,_ desperately trying to  _get away-_

Powerful tentacles unfurl, already crackling with electricity, and an instant later Optimus is on the floor with Soundwave on his chassis and quite a lot of energy stabbing through his frame. Another second later, though, Soundwave is gone- or, at least, mostly gone. Really he's just perched on top of the platform in the middle of the room like a very scared vulture. A very scared vulture who is bleeding and snarling and fluffing some rather sparse armor out as Bulkhead charges him. An alarmed little yelp slips from between his dentae, then the spymaster flees, heading for a conveniently open door- which is suddenly no longer open. 

Soundwave just about bounces off of Wheeljack, somehow managing to brace his uninjured leg against the Wrecker's chassis as he does, then gives a panicked little squeak (yes, definitely a squeak) and dashes off across the room. He tries to leap over Optimus' frame and head for the door, maybe duck back into the room and lock the door and  _hide_ for as long as he can, but suddenly Optimus is on his pedes and Soundwave's panicked dash is brought to a very sudden halt by a powerful servo on his shoulder. Pedes skidding, he tries to get free, then stills and gives a panicked little whimper as he realizes what he's just done. No matter how it happened, he's just- he's- 

Bulkhead is probably going to be angry at him because Wreckers are aggressive and Wheejack will definitely be mad because Soundwave just used his chassis as a launchpad but neither of those things compare to the fact that  _he just electrocuted Optimus Prime_ and he is in  _so much trouble-_

Soundwave is  _shaking,_  shaking enough that his plating rattles,and the servo on his shoulder is surprisingly gentle but far too strong for him to pull away from and  _he's messed up_ there's no way he isn't going to pay for this and he's just proved that he's a danger, just proved that he shouldn't be here, just proved that he isn't even worth the supplies they're using to repair him- 

A thousand and one scenarios run through Soundwave's mind at once, and none of them end well for him. He can't get away. No matter what he tries, he's trapped and if he tries to run they'll catch him and even if they don't the exertion will tear his stomach back open and he'll bleed out and die slowly and  _Laserbeak_ will fade after him and no matter what he does he's going to be hurt or killed, and if he's killed than she'll die, and it will be slow because there's no one here to help her, and he- 

He's  _scared,_ he's so incredibly scared, because  _he doesn't want to die_ and he doesn't want to die  _slowly_ but he- he can't take  _that_ again, and he- 

All he can do is pray for a quick death. A thousand and one scenarios, and the only one that sticks in his mind is acceptance. Die with whatever shred of dignity he still has. Die with- with Laserbeak held to his chassis, in hopes that- 

It goes against every single line of host coding in his being, but he slowly brings Laserbeak up to his chassis, hugging her close in hopes that- that the backlash of his extinguished spark will take her with him instead of just leaving her to slowly die of grief and starvation. And he needs this little bit of extra comfort to give him the courage to just- just stop trying to run. 

Stop shaking. 

Stop panting. 

And then, slowly, drop to one knee. 

It's clearly not a defensive posture, and it's not an attempt at escape. It's a gesture of submission. He keeps his helm low, partially as a gesture of the closest thing he can manage to acceptance, partially because if he looks up he's probably going to lose his nerve and try to fight and- probably die pinned to a wall or crushed under one of the Wreckers. And he can't help a shudder at that thought, but he- but he manages to stay still. He is not going to look. He is not going to panic. He is going to keep his fear internal, and he is going to accept his fate, and he is going to pray that Optimus just quickly executes him rather than drawing it out or- or leaving him to be a  _toy_ for- 

Soundwave's optics cut sideways to the Wreckers, and he can't keep himself from shuddering again.  _Please, no. Anything but that. Anything but them._

 

Optimus is silent for a long moment, just staring down at the terrified spymaster under his servo, then speaks very, very softly. "Wheeljack, Bulkhead, Bumblebee... please leave. I am fine. I can handle this myself, and I am not injured. I will alert you if I need assistance, and that is very unlikely. Please leave us alone, unless someone can find Ratchet." he whispers, then very slowly kneels, putting himself closer to Soundwave's optic level. "Soundwave. Can you look at me?" the Prime asks, very softly, then very slowly places two fingertips on the trembling mech's lower jaw and coaxes him to raise his helm slightly. "Look at me, please." 

 

No. He doesn't want to. He can't. 

But he- but Optimus' voice is so  _soft,_ and he- he doesn't sound angry or threatening or- or at all like an executioner. He sounds like- 

Soundwave slowly lifts his helm, just slightly, just enough to meet the Prime's optics, and- 

Optimus' optics are soft and worried and full of concern, and his touch is incredibly gentle on Soundwave's shoulder, on his jaw. And when he speaks, his voice is low and soothing and gentle, and Soundwave can't help but listen. And he can't tear his optics away from the Prime's, can't- can't stop looking. He just... he's transfixed.

A pitiful little sound works its way out of his gimped voicebox, a desperate plea for Optimus to just  _explain-_

Why isn't the Prime angry? There are singed patterns along his paint from Soundwave's desperate attempt at escape, and that had to have been painful at the very least, but he- he doesn't look angry. He looks... concerned.

He's trying to help.

He's trying to help, and for the life of him, Soundwave cannot understand why. 

 

"It's alright, Soundwave. I'm not... I'm not upset. I scared you. I am familiar with this sort of memory relapse, and I should have known better than to approach you like that. Ratchet will probably tell me that I deserved to be shocked for that particular lapse of intelligence. I suspect he'll use stronger words, as well. He'll be irritated at me, but he won't be mad at you. You thought you were under threat, and you reacted accordingly. I am not angry, and honestly, I'm fine. My paint is not, and a few pieces of my armor are still tingling, but I promise I am fine. Just a bit- hm, twitchy. I'm sure that'll wear off. Now... I'm sure you have a reason to be out here. Can you show me what it- oh. I see. You're bleeding, and... I'm guessing we may have made it worse by frightening you. Now... your servos don't look like they would be terribly effective at stopping that bleeding, so may I try? I'll be gentle, and I won't actually try to do anything- I'd just like to place a servo over that spot and apply a bit of pressure. May I?" 

 

...what? 

Soundwave whimpers in confusion, unable to understand, and his claws flex slightly as he tries to grasp why Optimus is- is trying to  _help_ him. But he... he's not about to... he's not going to refuse. Nodding slightly, the spymaster glances down at his side, then very cautiously looks up at Optimus again. And, this time, he doesn't flinch as a servo settles against his skin. Partly because he's forcing himself to stay still in case a flinch might be mistaken for rejection (can't risk offending the Prime), partly because he's still... quite transfixed. Optimus' optics are very hard to look away from, and the Prime's  _voice_ is- 

He should probably be concerned that Optimus has so easily transfixed him, but he's... he's just too busy being incredibly confused. And... and Optimus' servo is gentle and warm on his stomach, and he... he  _wants_ more touch but he can't have that and what is he  _doing_ should he be-

 

"Alright, Soundwave. I'm just going to get some bandages out of subspace... Ratchet makes me carry them. I'm just going to wrap a bandage around your midsection to help stop that bleeding... alright? I need to take my servo away for a moment." Optimus warns softly, then gently removes his servo, quickly retrieving a roll of bandages from subspace and showing them to the spymaster. "Just some mesh." he whispers, then gently wraps the soft material around Soundwave's midsection a couple of times, keeping an eye on the spymaster's nervous expression in hopes of preventing another panic attack. "There you go... that's it. You should be fine. Now... do you want to go back to your room and wait for Ratchet? You can lock the door, and I'll be sure that no one bothers you." 

 

Yes. Yes, he wants to go back. He absolutely wants to go back. He wants to curl up and hide and get away from people  _looking_ at him and from his complete and utter confusion. Maybe he can just- just curl up in a ball and cover his optics and whimper in bewilderment. He doesn't  _understand_ and he  _hurts_ and he's _terrified-_

 

"Easy." Optimus whispers, then offers both servos to the shaking mech in front of him, his voice very soft and soothing. "Here... I'm sure Ratchet wants you to keep your weight off that leg, so will you allow me to offer you some support? You can take my servos if you want, or you can just grip my plating if you'd like. I don't mind. Or, actually... would you like to wrap one of those around your midsection?" he ventures, gesturing slightly to the spymaster's tentacles- which are still somewhat extended and coiling across the floor like worried snakes. "I don't mind. Just... don't shock me again, please. That was not pleasant. I suppose I should be grateful you were in such a hurry... I'm honestly a bit surprised that I'm conscious right now. Really, though, I'm fine." he sighs, then offers an encouraging little smile when Soundwave cautiously places one servo in his. "You'd like to just take my servo, then? Alright, just... try to relax a bit. Maybe retract your tentacles? I'd hate to step on one, I'm sure they're very sensitive. And- here. I'm going to pull you to your pedes now, alright?" 

 

Soundwave carefully retracts his tentacles, still hugging Laserbeak to his chassis with one arm, then wraps his servo around two of Optimus' fingers and allows himself to be pulled up. Using the Prime's servo for some support, Soundwave carefully balances himself on just one pede, then nods slightly and glances up at Optimus. Okay. Yes. He's ready, he can- he can try to walk now. He's still shaking badly, but he- he can walk. Probably. 

Yes. He can walk.

 

"There... that's better." Optimus whispers, then hums soothingly when the spymaster gives an embarrassed little noise and pointedly looks at the floor. "No, it's alright... you're far from the first mech I've had to calm down. It's nothing to be ashamed of, especially after... what seems to have happened. I haven't read Ratchet's notes, of course, those are confidential, but you were... in very bad shape when Ratchet brought you in. Bulkhead and Wheeljack didn't see that, otherwise... well, I don't think Bulkhead would have acted the way he did. He didn't mean to scare you, I'm sure, he's just- he's a bit suspicious. And I think he may still be angry at you for attacking Wheeljack. I'll have to talk to him about that- you did nothing wrong, and you didn't badly hurt Wheeljack. In fact, Wheeljack isn't angry with you. He told everyone what happened afterwards, and he sounded rather amused. Maybe we could get Wheeljack to convince Bulkhead of that. Does that sound like a good course of action?" 

 

Yes, that... does make sense. Based on his observations and on their (limited) interactions, Wheeljack considers him to be something of a rival, but isn't actually angry at him. A bit strange, but... not bad. In fact, it- yes, it might be useful in this situation. Soundwave nods slightly, then glances up at Optimus, his optics showing just a bit less pain. The Prime's reassurance helps, helps keep him calm enough to realize that, yes, this happens to other people. He's not the only one who's been... traumatized... and Optimus has probably dealt with a lot of very upset people. 

 

"Alright, I'll handle that after we're done. Now... I'm really not certain where Ratchet is, but he'll probably be back soon. He doesn't ever leave the base for very long, and especially not when he has a patient. In the meantime, how about we just-" Optimus pauses, opening the door to the side room, then gestures slightly to it. "Here. I assume you'd prefer to be somewhere with a lock and a berth?" he whispers, leaving Soundwave plenty of space to go inside, then raises an optic ridge slightly when the spymaster doesn't let go of his servo. "You'd like to... ah, I understand." the Prime hums, walking into the room after Soundwave, then pauses when the spymaster slinks onto the berth and gives him a  _very_ alarmed look when he gets a bit closer. "And... I'm guessing you'd rather I stay over here." he mutters, backing away and sitting down on a crate instead. 

 

Soundwave tenses up all over when Optimus actually follows him into the room (he _really_ wasn't expecting that little gesture to actually earn him something), then relaxes slightly when the Prime backs away. Curling into the corner again, he firmly tugs the blankets up over himself and Laserbeak, then turns his attention to his claws. There are shreds of padding wrapped into his joints, and they're impeding the function of said joints. Giving an annoyed little huff, the spymaster starts to unwind the padding, then tenses up again when he sees Optimus eyeing the (shredded) berth-pad. 

 

"Easy..." Optimus sighs, optics saddening slightly at how afraid Soundwave looks, then leans back slightly and tries to meet the slender mech's optics. "It's aright, really. Those wear out reasonably quickly, so when they start getting a bit flattened -and shredded, Arcee tends to shred hers- we use them as padding for the walls of our sparring area. When those get extremely beaten up, we put them on the floor. You're just... expediting the process. Let Ratchet or I know if that pad starts getting uncomfortable, but otherwise, feel free to shred it- especially if it helps you stay calm." 

_I think you need anything you can get that'll help you stay calm._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out it is not a good idea to corner a traumatized spymaster who's still hyped up on adrenaline from a nightmare. That's what got him so freaked out there, he was too scared to think clearly.


	5. Slightly better?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, on this and other things.  
> I can't promise any more updates, honestly. The muse has gone in other directions, and I'm working on some things IRL. I'll give it a try, though.

"Raf. Raf. RAF. Get in here! You're never gonna believe this." Miko hisses, then immediately grabs Raf as soon as he's within reach and pulls him into the vents, practically vibrating all over with excitement. "I figured out what's been going on and it is  _weird_ and you need to come help me figure this out." she declares, then half crawls, half slithers off along the vent shaft towards what had formerly been a storage room. "Come ON-" 

 

There's no sense in trying to talk to Miko when she's this excited, Raf knows, so he just follows her without trying to ask. Until she starts shushing him as they get closer to the vent in question, and until he sees the purple glow filtering through the slats of the grate.

Time to ask now. "Miko... what's..." 

 

"SHH." Miko hisses, then very, very slowly eases the grate open a bit further and leans against it enough to look out and down at what's pressed against the wall. 

 

Someone has pushed a berth up against the wall, directly below the vent, and piled a large number of blankets and pillows on it. Wrapped around and buried in the assorted soft items is a lanky mech who, though he's lit only by his own bio-lights and is about half-hidden by cloth, is instantly recognizable. Soundwave, curled up asleep, tentacles out and curling convulsively around whatever they happen to touch. Those are the source of the glow, and the light pulses as they move erratically across the floor like agitated serpents, twisting and writhing in a display that would be threatening if not for one thing. 

Soundwave is  _whimpering,_ soft, staticky little noises slipping between parted fangs as narrow claws clutch at the blankets, and then the spymaster kicks out and flips over onto his back, enough of the blankets moving aside to reveal the claw marks on his stomach and thighs to the two humans staring down at him. 

 

"Hooooly cow" Raf breathes, very slowly retreating a bit further into the vent, then claps a hand over his mouth and just stares at Miko for a moment before lowering it to speak in a whisper. "That's... I-I mean, he's-" 

 

"The Slendermech himself, I know. And without a mask! I, uh- I was gonna get a picture, but he's... uh... well, look at him." she whispers, gesturing down towards the spymaster, then retreats a bit more to talk to Raf. "He just looks so _upset_... he's having a nightmare, I think, and I- I'm gonna wait until he's awake, anyway, that way we can see his optics." she decides, though, frankly, it's clearly an excuse. "I mean... I was  _gonna_ be concerned about him being here, since, y'know, terrifying reputation and all, but- but I'm pretty sure it'd take Megatron's claws to rip him up like that. We could probably go take a ruler to Optimus to figure it out, I'm sure he has a bunch of Megadork claw scars, but then we'd have to figure out how to get the ruler onto Soundwave. It's not like he's gonna  _let_ us climb on him. Right? I mean- he is kinda unconscious-looking right now." 

 

"Miko, I think the main question here isn't ' _how do we put a ruler on Soundwave's claw marks'_ , it's ' _why the slag is Soundwave in our base with claw marks in **very bad places** '._ Priorities!" Raf hisses, then, despite the urge to run from the mech who could absolutely reach into this air vent and crush them into bloody powder, inches forward to look down at Soundwave again. Just in time to hear a particularly pitiful whimper from the spymaster. "Oh. That... oh man, he's... listen to him, that's... wow." he whispers, glancing back at a suddenly-much-more-sober Miko. "I... he's... ah, man, I've only ever heard noises like that out of Bumblebee, when... when he's..." he trails off, then backs up a bit, rather uncomfortable with watching Soundwave like this. "Miko, I... I'm not sure we should be here, it really feels like maybe we should give him some privacy. I don't think he'd like us being here." 

 

"Oh, who cares what he thinks, he's a creepy bundle of tentacles who kills Autobots." Miko grumbles, though she really doesn't sound convinced. Those were bad sounds to hear from someone, she kinda cares a bit what the mech wants. "Eh... just lemme see if I can get a pic of those marks to compare something to." she mutters, scooting forwards and starting to take her phone out, leaning against the grate to get a better view- 

Then yelps in alarm when the grate creaks, groans, and gives out. 

 

Raf hisses in concern and tries to grab Miko before she falls, but only succeeds in lunging forward far enough that he follows her out of the vent. 

 

Fortunately, they are directly over a berth piled with blankets, and they both land on a section of blanket that's stretched from the edge of the berth to Soundwave's leg. There are certainly worse landings. 

The trouble with this landing is, it puts them right next to a very upset, very dangerous spymaster, and those coiling data-cables are between them and every avenue of escape. Soundwave doesn't wake up, at least, but he does stir and hiss before going back to his uneasy squirming and whimpering. 

 

"Ohhh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap oh crap oh fraggin'  _crap"_ Miko hisses, accurately summing up Raf's thoughts, then very, very slowly sits up. " _Pit"_ she declares, very softly, then slowly starts edging away from Soundwave and towards the edge of the berth, sliding along the blanket in an attempt to silently get away. She does  _not_ want to wake Soundwave up. It'd probably be akin to waking up a sleeping dragon, except this dragon is already in a horrible mood. 

Fortunately, Soundwave doesn't seem likely to wake easily or notice anything.

Unfortunately, Miko completely fails to realize that one patch of blanket i just a bit higher than it ought to be. 

Which leads to her stepping very firmly on one of the tiny prongs that make up Laserbeak's wings and earning herself a shriek of startled pain from the formerly-sleeping symbiote.

Which is akin to waking a sleeping mother dragon with the sound of smashing eggshells. 

 

 

 

Soundwave's optics snap open, slit pupils widening and glowing ominously, and he  _snarls_ in unbridled fury at the signals of pain and alarm from his little one. Laserbeak is  _his_ and she is  _hurt_ and  _scared_ and he's failed her before, he's failed  _all_ of them, she's nearly  _died_ at Megatron's servos and the rest are  _gone,_ dead, taken from him by the war and by his own  _failures_ and  _he will not fail her again-_

A mangled vocalizer already strained from painful whimpering crackles to life again, the spymaster  _shrieking_ a staticky cry of rage and fear and defiance as he snatches Laserbeak away from the danger and holds her to his chassis, tentacles curling up from wherever they'd gotten into as he straightens up and turns to face- 

Two tiny, stunned, clearly terrified humans, who have just been dumped off the berth by his sudden movement. Two humans who he recognizes, mostly thanks to one's bright colors, and who aren't holding any sort of weapon. Except the snapped-off vent cover that one is attempting to use as a shield.

Oh. 

Soundwave's anger settles just a tiny bit at the lack of an actual threat, especially when he glances up at the uncovered vent and realized what must have happened- 

And then immediately flares up again at the realization that they'd been  _watching_ him. Watching him while he was at his most vulnerable, in the grips of a nightmare no less. He doesn't like being watched under any circumstances, and the fact that they dared to do  _this-_

And they'd  _hurt_ Laserbeak. Maybe not on purpose, but she is hurt and frightened and he is  _angry._

This is not okay. 

His entire chassis rumbling with a growl that shook the air around them, Soundwave slowly brings his data-cables closer, ringing the humans in a wide circle of rippling, shifting stripes of light that clearly illuminate them so he can see clearly. Baring his fangs at them, the spymaster slowly raises one servo, still trying to figure out exactly what he's going to do- 

Then stills when he remembers something. Annoying little organics or not, these are younglings. Sapient younglings. Who hadn't been trying to hurt him. 

Well. He'd have to be some sort of a horrible person to kill them for this, wouldn't he? 

Besides, the Autobots will probably -no, definitely- kill  _him_ if he hurts their little pets. 

That doesn't mean he isn't going to do  _something_ about this, though. He needs to make sure that these two aren't going to come back again, needs to make sure they won't frighten Laserbeak or  _watch_ him. And they are very stubborn little beings, not prone to avoiding things that are clearly dangerous, so... he's going to have to make this convincing. He's going to have to make them think that he  _will_ kill them. 

Drawing himself up, Soundwave narrows his optics at the annoying beings and hisses softly, his data-cables starting to shift faster and buzz with little sparks of electricity. He's deliberately leaving a gap in the rippling waves, though, a gap near the door. They can escape if they scramble over his data-cables in that one particular spot, but pretending he won't let them go seems like a good start. 

The next thing he does is slink about halfway off the berth, cradling Laserbeak against himself with one servo and bracing the other on the floor for support in order to loom threateningly close over the humans, beautifully emphasizing just how large he is compared to them. He could crush them in a sparkbeat, snuff their tiny little lives out with one clawtip if he felt the need, and hopefully he can get that realization to sink in. 

The last thing, well... truth be told, it's partly an attempt at intimidation, partly what he feels is a reasonable way to deal with the urge to  _hurt them_ and the desire to punish the interlopers.

The spymaster growls low in the back of his throat, still looming over the pests, fangs bared, and then cues up every relevant sound track he has, fully onlines his vocalizer, and  _roars_. A Sparkeater's howl, an Insecticon's war cry, the roar of something primal and utterly terrifying that he never got a look at, and half a dozen gladiators' battlecries, overlaid with the roar of his own engines and crackling fear and pain and  _fury_ in his own voice, every ounce of rage and hatred he can muster poured into the most terrifying scream his frame can create, all as painfully loud as he can bear. It's not  _quite_ loud enough to actually cause damage, he's in enough pain for now and he doesn't want to injure Laserbeak (or, really, the humans), but it's close and it  _hurts_ \- him as much as them, really, his vocalizer sparks and catches and finally shuts down outright. 

Which is really the only reason he stops.

Still showing his fangs in what will hopefully register as a threat in their primitive little brains, Soundwave tapers off the various recordings, drawing back a bit to stare down at the pests, then hisses and suddenly jolts towards them- 

And that, evidently, is all it takes to send them from holding their little skulls in pain to running for their lives. 

Which is satisfying.

Ah, Pit, he's forgotten about the door. They can't open the door from the inside, can they? 

So how the frag is he going to get them out of his room without looking like he's trying to help them?

Not wanting the humans to run off and hide under something he'll have to move, Soundwave quickly captures them both in one tentacle, holding them just firmly enough to not drop them- he doesn't want to squish the pests. Even if one of them is yelling very rude things at him. And ineffectively trying to punch him. 

Stuffing down the urge to immediately drop the squishy things, Soundwave lifts the pests off of the ground and stands up, hissing threateningly at them even as he moves to open the door- 

And then the door opens for him. 

Because Ratchet is standing on the other side.

And, of course, the medic  _has_ to open the door right when Soundwave has clearly captured the humans and is hissing at them. Not before, when they were still in the vents, not even when they were on the ground and he'd just corralled them. No, Ratchet has to show up  _right_ when Soundwave has just hissed at the two fragile humans he's just picked up. 

He's going to suffer for this. 

At a complete loss of what to do (Run? Try to apologize? Hold the humans captive until he gets too tired to stay awake and they escape?), Soundwave looks between Ratchet and the pests, fighting the urge to just crawl underneath the berth and pretend he's not there, then very, very slowly holds the humans out and sets them in Ratchet's servos. Very carefully withdrawing his data-cable from around their tiny frames, he glances between them and Ratchet's face once more, gives one, final, half-sparked hiss, backs up, and shuts the door, praying that it isn't about to be knocked down by angry Wreckers. 

 And, because there isn't much he can do if said Wreckers (or, Primus forbid, Optimus) are going to hurt him, Soundwave gives in to the urge to crawl back into the berth and hide under as many blankets and pillows as he can. It's childish, but he's  _scared,_ and he needs to calm down so he can listen carefully and try to sort out all the clips he can possibly use to beg with. There's no way they  _aren't_ going to be angry about him treating the humans like that, even if he didn't actually injure the pests, and Bulkhead in particular is- is very protective, and- 

Shuddering at the faint sound of the large mech in question yelling something angry, Soundwave curls into a tighter ball and starts splicing recordings, trying to pick out as many as he can that are  _not_ terrified Autobots. He'd really rather not beg, even if it isn't in his voice, but he'll swallow the tiny bit of what's left of his pride if it means being slightly less at the mercy of an angry Wrecker. He's fairly sure Bulkhead would like to kill him about now, and he's watched a few Wreckers who like to  _play_ first whenever they have the time, and- 

 

 

By the time the yelling subsides and the door opens again, Soundwave has put together a fairly passable "please don't hurt me I'm sorry" clip, and also run over every possible scenario in his helm and made himself very anxious in the process. Uncurling just enough to see out of his bundle of softness, the spymaster nervously eyes Ratchet for a moment, then uncurls a bit more when he realizes there's no one else. And when Ratchet shuts the door without letting anyone else in. 

Well. This... this probably isn't good. Either Ratchet is here to tell him exactly what he did wrong and why he's about to be punished, or...

Dear Primus don't let  _Ratchet_ be the one sent to punish him, he'll gladly take a Wrecker over a  _medic,_ even an angry Wrecker, because they just smash and shred and tear, it's blunt force injury, it can be repaired, but  _medics-_

Medics disable, remove, amputate, can take his T-cog or cut out his tentacles or rip the symbiote dock from his chassis and the tank from his stomach, medics know where every single sensitive spot is and how to strip nerves raw and how to keep a mech alive, in constant, unbearable agony, without killing them, if it suits their needs, and he's completely defenseless because anything he does to fight back will just make this  _worse-_

He's actually thankful for the state of his vocalizer right now, because it stops the high, keening whine that wants to escape as Ratchet comes closer, but he can't hide the fear in his optics because that would mean not  _seeing-_

 

 

Aware that something isn't right here, Ratchet very slowly approaches the bundle of spymaster, running a scan and immediately stopping where he is when he gets a look at the slender mech's sparkrate. "Hey, Soundwave, easy... I'm not here to hurt you." he sighs, then takes a step closer, trying not to be scary. "Okay, spook... I'm just gonna come riiight over there and sit on the end of the berth, alright? I'm not gonna touch ya, but I need to sit down so I'm not standin' over you, and my knees are not gonna like it if I sit down on the floor. Easy, now... I won't hurt you." 

Very careful not to touch any part of the spymaster, Ratchet sits down on the edge of the berth, trying to keep himself as calm as he can. "Hey, Soundwave... think you can come outta there?" he ventures, then sighs when Soundwave obliges. Because the spymaster looks like a mech trying very hard to face his own execution with some amount of dignity. "Pit, spook, you look like you're gonna purge... do I need to get a bucket?" he asks quietly, genuinely wondering if this is about to get messy, and doesn't quite believe it when Soundwave shakes his helm. No, that is... not the look of a mech who has no need for a bucket. But, okay, he won't push. Mostly because there are more important things here. 

"Soundwave... are you expecting me to hurt you?" he asks softly, then sighs and lowers every bit of plating that he can, trying to not be scary. "I'm not going to. I will not hurt you. Do you understand? I do not approve of corporeal punishment, and neither does Optimus. Besides... you haven't done anything worthy of punishment." 

And that is definitely surprise in those wide orange optics. 

"You haven't. Miko told us what happened. I don't quite approve of your reaction, but I don't think you were actually planning to hurt them, and... they were watching you, they probably startled you, and they hurt Laserbeak. Is she injured, by the way?" the medic asks, leaning to the side just a bit to look at the nearly-hidden bundle of symbiote, then leans back again when it doesn't look like anything is wrong. "You are not in danger. You will not be punished. Optimus has asked me to tell you not to intentionally scare the humans again, we're trying not to present you as a threat, but you aren't in trouble. Bulkhead is mad at you, but your actions were reasonable, and Bulkhead will not be allowed to decide what happens to you. Or allowed near you. Do you understand? No one is going to punish you for yelling at and scaring the humans, they were being idiots anyway." Ratchet sighs, then picks a blanket up off the floor and puts it back, trying to do something that is clearly not an angry action. 

"And, Soundwave... if, for some reason, you do something wrong, you will not be hurt for it. That is not an appropriate punishment. That is a method of punishment used by those who wish to rule through intimidation and fear. Optimus prefers to earn respect. He's not going to let anyone hurt you, and neither am I. You are  _safe_ here, Soundwave. You have my word. I will not let anyone hurt you." 

 

 

Soundwave stares at Ratchet for a moment more, then very slowly relaxes from his attempt at looking defiant and unafraid and all the things he's not, going from sitting up very straight and trying to be dignified into looking like... 

Well, looking about like he feels. He basically just slumps against the wall, hides Laserbeak and most of his lower body under as many blankets as he can reach, and only barely resists the urge to curl up into a tiny ball. Not really minding that he's projecting  _"oh thank Primus'_ with every bit of his body language, he blinks up at Ratchet and chirps very softly, then slowly reaches out and, very carefully, touches the back of the medic's servo with two fingertips. He's not entirely certain what it's supposed to be, but Ratchet promising to keep him safe is giving him  _emotions_ and this feels like the right response to those emotions. One soft little touch to somewhere safe. 

Ratchet looks down at those delicate clawtips, then slowly turns his servo over so that they're touching his palm and very, very slowly closes his servo just enough to touch Soundwave's claws in return, which... seems like a good response. Soundwave is pretty sure that's a good response. It makes his servo tingle, which he's not sure about, but it's... it seems good. Optics dimming slightly, he slides his servo a bit further into Ratchet's, then licks his lips and very slowly pulls on the medic's servo. When Ratchet moves closer without resisting, Soundwave cautiously unfurls his tentacles, brightly pulsing the bio-lights so they couldn't possibly be missed. He doesn't want to startle Ratchet. 

When there are no negative reactions to the cautious approach, Soundwave gently but firmly winds his tentacles around the medic's chassis and pulls him close, then growls softly but insistently and pushes on the medic's chassis. He... he wants to try something. Much to his surprise, Ratchet doesn't resist at all, even when Soundwave pushes him down onto his back. This is much less resistance than he'd expected, but he isn't complaining... this is good. Ratchet looks very confused, but his captive isn't struggling, complaining, or COMMing anyone, so... 

Chirping gently in an attempt to make it clear that this is not any sort of attack, Soundwave hisses very softly and tries to be just slightly dominant, then climbs about halfway onto that powerful chassis, flops down, and pulls the blankets up. Humming softly to himself, he gathers up a few different pillows and tucks them around himself and Ratchet, then shuts his optics and snuggles down into place. Mmm. Ratchet is warm and smooth, and he doesn't seem to mind being used as a pillow/berthwarmer, so Soundwave is just going to stay here and purr quietly to Ratchet- 

And then immediately tense up upon realizing that he doesn't have the medic's arms pinned. Which he realizes when Ratchet's servos land on his back, one just resting on his middle back, one wrapping around one of his spines. 

 

"Hi, spook. Am I a warm spot again?" Ratchet asks, lightly petting Soundwave's back, then chuckles softly when he nods. "So I'm being held captive so you can be nice and warm? Yeah, okay. I don't have that many things I gotta do." he mutters, feeling the spymaster slowly start to relax under his servos. "I'm gonna keep my servos up here an' rub your back a little bit, as long as you don't mind. I gotta get up an' work eventually, but I got time right now, an' I'm gonna pet you." 

 

Soundwave relaxes at the realization that Ratchet isn't doing anything that will be unpleasant for him, hums very softly to the medic, and lets himself go limp. And he doesn't have any plans to move at all, he's completely content to just lie here and... be very confused about what is so nice about being cuddled against Ratchet. What, exactly, is he enjoying so much? It's not just the warmth, the electric blanket doesn't do anything like  _this_ for him. And he's certainly not  _attracted_ to Ratchet, he's barely short of terrified of this mech, so that's not it. Maybe... maybe it's just...

He can hear everything happening in Ratchet's frame. Soft, even ventilations, the throb and pulse of energon rushing through veins, and... best of all, the calm, steady beat of the medic's spark. He would be able to hear if Ratchet was afraid or planning something, and he's  _not,_ Ratchet is calm and relaxed and, at the very least, willing to tolerate this. Maybe even enjoying it a little bit? 

Why does he like the idea of Ratchet enjoying this? He certainly doesn't want the medic getting  _ideas,_ Ratchet is probably stronger than him and could definitely outlast him at this point, but... but the idea that Ratchet might be feeling something anywhere near Soundwave's calm enjoyment of this is...

It's nice. 

Soundwave  _really_ doesn't want to make this seem like a suggestion, but he slowly brings one servo up and pets over the medic's shoulder plating for a moment before hesitantly sliding his fingertips under the plating and rubs at the muscle cables there. Ratchet tenses, of course, but relaxes after a moment, even as Soundwave reaches deeper to trace along a long scar. He's a bit intrigued by this... scars can be a good way to learn people's history. 

 

"Someone tried to chop my arm off. Actually got through the plating, but they didn't hit anything too important. Welded it back up myself." Ratchet explains, feeling Soundwave tracing over the scar and deciding he might as well explain. "What are you up to, spook? Are you petting me? Sure... why not. Up a li'l higher? There ya go, that spot. Gets all tense. Just be careful with those claws... 'd rather not have to fix that joint again." he mutters, running his fingertips down just a bit further to lightly rub at the base of a couple of large spines. And then gives into temptation and flexes one of them a bit in an effort to figure out the joint. Soundwave is a very strange mech who is currently within easy reach and in a state where he can object to inspection but is unlikely to, so Ratchet is going to take this opportunity and play with these spines. 

"Let's see you...  y' weird li'l spymaster. Wheeljack still thinks yer part sparkeater. Tried ta tell him that ain't physically possible, at least by any means I know of, but... you _do_ look a bit like one of those things. Especially the tentacles. No fangs, though, or at least not anythin' on par with those things. You'd have an unhingin' jaw, too. Which you don't... I don't think. Let me see your face for a klik, spook." he mutters, reaching up towards the spymaster and lightly touching his cheek to be sure he's not about to be bitten. "Don't bite me. Jus' complain if y' don't want me doin' this."

Soundwave doesn't complain, so Ratchet lightly grips his lower jaw and gives it a tiny shake, then presses on his cheeks to feel the mechanisms underneath. "Nope. No dislocatin' jaw." he mutters, not really having expected such a jaw anyway, then tenses slightly when Soundwave responds by biting gently at his fingers. "Woah, okay- spook, I got no complaints here, but, ah... y'oughta  be aware, ah... 'm a medic, you know, so m' servos are _very_ sensitive and you should _probably_ not do that unless you got ideas." Ratchet warns, very gently removing his servo from Soundwave's attempts at nibbling. "Nibble somethin' else." 

 

And _that,_ of course, is when Optimus opens the door. Just in time to see Soundwave absentmindedly biting at Ratchet's servo. "Ah... hello, Soundwave. Ratchet. Er... Ratchet, are you alright?" he asks, not certain what to make of the sight of his CMO with a former Decepticon spymaster wrapped around him. Ratchet doesn't seem concerned, at least. Soundwave seems very concerned, but mostly about Optimus' arrival. Hm. What... what does he do with this situation? It doesn't  _look_ like he needs to pry the spymaster away, but... there are a lot of tentacles involved. It's starting to look a little bit like the start of a dirty novel, actually, with those glowing coils creeping over Ratchet's frame. Unlikely, but- that _is_ what it looks like. 

 

"Fine. Soundwave is using me as a heat source. Also tasting whatever parts of me he thinks are interesting. Bein' surprisingly gentle about it, too, jus' nibblin' on me. I don't mind, gives me a chance t' look him over, too." Ratchet shrugs, leaning back slightly to look back at Optimus. "Pretty sure he'd let go if I wanted, too. Very polite about this whole thing. Now... would you like to explain what you're after, so he'll stop tryin' to melt into my shadow?" the medic sighs, reaching back to rub between Soundwave's spines in an attempt to calm the spymaster. He can feel Soundwave's sparkbeat accelerating, and it's... it's sad. This should be a mech defiant enough to take on the entire Autobot base at once and probably defeat at least most of them, but he's trying to melt into the shadows and slink away from one non-aggressive mech.  

 

"I- Soundwave? It's all right." Optimus sighs, stepping inside and shutting the door behind himself, and considers the situation for a moment before kneeling near the berth. He attempts to make optic contact with Soundwave, but, given that the spymaster is hiding behind his own arms and Ratchet at the same time, it's an attempt that entirely fails. "I promise, I am not here to hurt you. In fact, I am here to reassure you that you are _not_ in trouble with me, nor am I going to allow anyone near you without your permission. You are not in danger, and I promise you are not in trouble. The children told me what happened. You were woken up suddenly, in an unfamiliar room, and you responded accordingly to what you took for a threat to your little one. I promise you are not in trouble. After all- you didn't hurt them. You frightened them, but they rather deserved it for spying on you. And, Soundwave... I am  _not_ going to hurt you, understand? I am not angry. The only thing that you could do that would make me angry would be to intentionally, maliciously harm someone on this base, and... I don't think you intend to do that. You are not a violent mech, I know that much. But... I will be honest. Bulkhead and Wheeljack are angry. For this, and- just at you in general. I have ordered them to leave you alone. In the event that they decide to ignore that order and get into your personal space, you have my permission to use force to remove them from your personal space. Not seriously injurious or deadly force, please, but you are quite welcome to pick them up and move them. I have informed them of this." 

 

Oh. 

Okay.

Soundwave blinks a couple of times, then sits up further, meeting Optimus' gaze and attempting to look... not terrified. Okay. That... makes sense, actually, Optimus is... not the sort to lead by fear. So... he can probably stop his pitiful attempts at hiding behind Ratchet. Because it is... shameful for him to be doing this. It makes him look weak. _Pathetic_. Which is about how he feels, but they don't need to know that, now do they? He can just... press down the swirling anxiety and try to- 

Why is Optimus reaching for him? 

 

"Soundwave. I will not hurt you, and I will not allow anyone else to hurt you. Are we clear?" Optimus hums, holding out one servo, palm-up, without actually trying to touch Soundwave. "I will understand if you do not trust me, but... are you willing to take my word for it that I will not let you be hurt?" 

 

Soundwave watches Optimus for a moment, then, slowly, reaches out and places his servo in the Prime's. Yes. He's... not certain about a lot of things, but he's spent a very long time watching Optimus, and Optimus is a very honest mech. The Prime simply does not lie to people. Ever. Especially not with a look that earnest in his optics. So he takes the Prime's servo, gently, and he manages to mostly contain the flinch as Optimus' servo closes around his- 

And his spark does an oddly pleasant little fluttering thing when Optimus  _smiles_ at the contact.

That... is a strange feeling. 

Apparently he... likes watching those pretty optics brighten up at him. 

It  _is_ an extremely un-intimidating expression. 

 


	6. Emotions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laserbeak is awake, Fowler finds out about this whole situation, and a lot of Not Good emotions are had.

Optimus sighs softly and lets go of Soundwave's servo after some time, standing up with his optics fixed on the spymaster as softly as he can manage. "Soundwave, I am... going to have to talk to Agent Fowler about exactly what you are doing here, and it is going to have to be soon. Out of respect for your privacy, I intend to be as... nonspecific as I can. You are also not at all obligated to interact with him in any way, if you do not wish to. He may not be very happy to see you, given that... Laserbeak kidnapped him for interrogation. Now- I assume you do not wish to interact with him?" 

 

No, he does not want to speak to the government agent. Not without his visor and enough new paint to hide the marks on his legs. Soundwave shuts his optics and firmly shakes his helm, a polite but firm refusal, and leans back to pull a blanket up over himself a bit further. He would also like to not think about the possibility of _another_ person finding out about this, but... it is inevitable. He could hide himself quite well, of course, but, given that Fowler is the Autobot's point of contact for supplies, he's... going to find out eventually. Hopefully the human doesn't end up spreading this particular bit of information too much. Soundwave does not like being the subject of interesting pieces of information. 

And, apparently, it shows in his faceplates, because Optimus has a sympathetic look in his optics now, and Soundwave is _very_ much not certain if he wants to hide from that look or... 

Much to his dismay, more than a bit of his processor would like him to chirp softly and curl up against Optimus in lieu of hiding under blankets. Sympathy from the Autobot leader is oddly... enticing. 

No thank you, though, he's just going to lean back a bit and try to look casual as he hides from everything. 

 

"I am sorry, Soundwave. I would give you more time if I could, but... this is a matter which I do not believe it would be wise to conceal, even passively. Fowler will be here soon for a situation update, and I intend to make your presence here part of that update. Which is why I must leave now." Optimus sighs, turning away and opening the door- 

And ducks as something flies over his helm. 

 

Laserbeak, evidently, is awake. Awake, afraid, and flying as fast as she can down the hallway. 

She is in the  _Autobot base_ and that is  _Optimus Prime_ and this is  _bad_ this is very very bad where is Soundwave? 

Optics unfocused, chattering in panic, Laserbeak circles the main room of the Autobot base exactly twice before diving for- 

For a dark, elevated, suitably shaped space that looks like a very appealing place to stuff her entire body. 

Which turns out to be underneath a couch that is currently occupied by the smallest human. Who is now sputtering in confusion and appears to be torn between bolting and looking under the couch to see what exactly is happening. 

Whoops.

Help!

 

Soundwave whines in dismay and leaps up off the berth, pain searing up his spine but failing to stop him from bolting after her. It does, however, stop him from sending any convincing amount of reassurance over their bond without it being accompanied by  _pain._ But that doesn't matter, because she's  _awake_ and  _flying_ and that means she's going to be  _okay-_

She's afraid, and so is he, but she'll be okay and that is  _good-_ but he has to get to her first, has to make sure no one else gets  _near_ her, has to protect her from the world and the Wreckers in particular.

Neglecting to consider anything other than  _Laserbeak_ and keeping her safe, Soundwave darts out into the main room and climbs up onto the raised area, balancing on the edge and reaching to pick Laserbeak up... realizing only too late that he has just given the human on the couch a very good view of every weld mark and sealant-coated gash down his front. And most of the ones on his thighs, too, with how he's crouching. 

There's... more than one human, also. 

The government agent he'd been hoping to avoid is standing in front of the couch, weapon out, staring up at him.

And, given how (oddly) similar the humans are in build and organ placement to Cybertronians, they are very unlikely to miss the connotations of exactly where all those claw marks are. 

Soundwave stays perfectly still for several long moments, even shutting down his vents to disguise that he would be panting otherwise, staring down at the humans and unable to disguise the fact that he does  _not_ know what to do about this. Nor does he want to act hastily... he'd rather not seem to be threatening them. Also, there is a gun pointed up at his face. Admittedly, it's human-sized, but could still cause serious damage if fired at his optics. He'd rather not have that fired at him, or do anything to risk it being aimed at Laserbeak instead. 

So he stays still, even as his frame starts to protest in earnest. Stays, crouched over the bit of furniture with it raised in one servo and the other servo halfway reaching for Laserbeak. Stays, even as two shocked gazes trail slowly down his front and the urge to _hide_ grows, even as something in his stomach gives way and energon starts to slowly drip onto the platform under him. He's... somewhere between terrifying and pitiful at the moment, really. Crouched over the smaller beings as if attacking them, but with his wounds visible and with an expression of growing pain, desperation, and _fear._ Fearfor himself, and for his little one.

 

Laserbeak, wisely, has gone silent. She has far more optical sensors than are readily apparent, and she sees the human with the weapon. Sees where the human is looking, too, and can feel Soundwave's discomfort growing with every passing nanosecond. She wants to comfort him, of  _course_ she does, but she can't  _move_ without the risk of startling the jumpy human who is probably mad at her for kidnapping him. It wasn't personal, but... the human is armed and on edge, and it is wise to respect people who are armed and on edge. If only temporarily. 

 

A couple of increasingly painful minutes of staring later, Fowler lowers his gun, stares up at Soundwave's face for a second more, notices the spymaster very clearly trying to avoid his gaze, and turns away to look at Optimus. "I... take it this was the 'unexpected development' you were going to tell me about?" he asks, holstering his gun at the realization that Soundwave is _not_ being threatening.

 

Optimus steps a bit closer, slowly, hoping to not startle the unhappy spymaster, and very carefully brings one servo up when he's certain Soundwave can see him. "Er... yes. This, and... a certain amount of explanation. But first- Laserbeak, hello, please do not attempt to electrocute me." the Prime rumbles, carefully picking the symbiote up, and holds her very gently in one arm as he steps away from the platform. "Soundwave- would you put Raphael down and come off of the platform, please?" he requests, holding out his other servo in a silent offer of support, but doesn't offer Laserbeak- partly because he's trying to support the small frame against his chassis. "Come here... I promise I am not holding Laserbeak hostage." 

 

Optics locked on Laserbeak, Soundwave climbs off of the platform, trying to keep himself upright but limping badly as he approaches Optimus. Walking  _hurts._ But he needs Laserbeak, and then he needs to hide somewhere safe and warm and  _away from people,_ and that is going to involve some walking. Whining a soft, constant sound of pain, he limps over to Optimus and just about snatches Laserbeak, holding her close until she docks, then _hisses_ and turns away from the humans _staring_ at him. He's vulnerable, he's afraid, he wants to  _run_ and  _hide_ and  _get away-_

 

"Soundwave- come here. Stop trying to walk, you're going to hurt yourself. Come on- the medbay is right there, we can pull a curtain around so no one can see you." Ratchet whispers, firmly putting an arm around Soundwave's frame for support, and carefully steers the spymaster towards the medbay area. Once there, he immediately pulls a thick curtain around the berth, then helps Soundwave to lay down without putting any further strain on his frame. "Easy... you're all right. I'm not going to take Laserbeak- just lay down, be still, and listen. Easy. I have you... promise." he sighs, speaking softly enough that no one else in the room will be able to hear him, and places a servo very gently on Soundwave's arm- careful not to get near Laserbeak, who's hidden under the spymaster's crossed arms. "I'm not about to take her away, Soundwave. That would be extremely counterproductive for all of us, not to mention cruel." 

 

Soundwave hisses softly, once more, then shuts his optics and lets his vents start up again. He's been keeping them clamped down, and for good reason- when they start up again, he's  _panting,_ a blatant signal of distress that he is not at all proud of. But he obeys- he shuts his optics and stays still, hugging Laserbeak against himself, trying to focus on listening to what's happening outside- that is very relevant to him, he needs to know what's going to happen. What they might do to him. 

At least the Wreckers aren't in the room to be angry with him or mock him for his fear. 

Now... much as he wants to curl into Laserbeak and focus everything on her, he needs to listen. 

 

"Do you recall when I said that I thought Megatron's erratic behavior was worsening, and that I thought it might not be long before he lost himself entirely?" Optimus sighs, approaching the platform to speak directly to Fowler, and pauses- probably looking down at Raf, considering whether this is a conversation to have around a youngling.

Admittedly a clever youngling who has probably already figured things out. 

 

Fowler waits before speaking, probably also eyeing the youngling, but eventually steps forwards to look up at Optimus. "I take it that's what's happened here? Because, if I remember right, those two are supposed to be pretty close. _That_ did not look like _close_. Or anything even remotely _decent_ , holy _Hell_." 

 

"That is what the evidence indicates. Which... explains why Soundwave is here. Before you protest- he is no threat to security. Him giving the Decepticons our location would end very poorly for all involved, most likely including him. Therefore-" 

A pause, and what sounds very much like a large mech bracing their pedes apart and crossing their arms, "-he is staying. And, in addition, Ratchet will most likely be requesting supplies for repairs. We _will_ receive those supplies. Soundwave has been a formidable opponent, but he is a good person, and he does not deserve to be in pain." 

 

"Yeah, I figured he'd be staying, by the look of him. I'm not about to argue with you. Not sure how I'm going to explain this to the brass, though. It'll probably be easier to get them on board if you can get him to talk about somethin' we can use, say, last known location or how many of those identical ones are left, but... I'll leave that up to you. Figure he doesn't wanna talk to me. Don't really wanna talk to him, either, or that flying menace that clings onto him. Now- anything to report other than the... unexpected acquisition of a spy?" 

 

Soundwave listens for a bit longer, but they're just discussing supply expenditure and recent expeditions. Useful, before. Nearly worthless to him now. And... far less important than the other information he's just gotten.

It's not what he was expecting. Mostly because he was expecting very bad news, and this... 

Well, he can't call it  _good_ because some portion of a government is still going to be hearing about what's happened to him, but... it doesn't sound like he needs to start running. Which is good, because he's quite certain he can't run very far, and he probably can't transform with his leg and stomach still healing. He doesn't have any way to escape, but apparently he won't need to. He's okay. This is not a great situation, but it's a reasonably safe one. He's okay. It's... it's okay. He can stay here for now, there's no imminent danger, he's not dying, Laserbeak is awake...

He's okay. 

He just hurts. 

He hurts a lot, actually, apparently he's pulled on all the wounds and  _ow._

Soundwave gives a short, soft little cry of pain, optics still shut tightly, and bares his fangs at the air. Before remembering that the air around him also contains a Ratchet. 

Whoops. 

Cautiously opening his optics, Soundwave blinks up at Ratchet, chirruping very quietly in apology. He was snarling at his own innards, not at Ratchet. Ratchet isn't doing anything wrong, just- 

Oh. 

He's focused too much on listening, and has completely neglected to notice two things.

Number one, Ratchet has a servo on his stomach, applying just enough pressure to stop the dripping of energon from whatever he's pulled loose. Presumably repairs were about to happen before Soundwave interrupted.

Number two, Ratchet has stopped those repairs, and is staring down at him with a rather concerned expression. 

Which is probably due to...

To the tears dripping down his face. 

He's not  _crying,_ not really. He's panting a bit, but his vocalizer isn't trying to activate, and he can definitely shut his vents off if he wants to. So... this is a bit odd. 

He was already panting before he got on this cot, but.. the tears are new. Hm. No wonder Ratchet stopped- one single, silent indicator that usually means extreme distress is not a good sign in a patient. Soundwave is fairly certain that Ratchet isn't to blame for this, though, he really doesn't mind the medic's servo on his stomach. Doesn't hurt. Not an especially private place to touch. A bit vulnerable given the lack of plating, and he's certainly quite sore, but... not upsetting enough to warrant tears. So... why _is_ he crying? 

Wrapped up in trying to figure his own emotions out, Soundwave completely forgets to alert Ratchet that nothing is especially wrong, and is pulled from his own confused thoughts by the lightest possible touch to his cheek. 

 

"Hey, spook... you in there? Soundwave, look at me- I need to know what's wrong. Or- what is currently upsetting you the most. If you're in pain, I can fix that. If I'm the problem, I'll stop whatever it is. But you gotta tell me, spook, I don't read minds." Ratchet sighs, lightly tapping the spymaster's cheek in an attempt to keep his attention. Hopefully one that won't lead to being bitten. "And I need those bright optics of yours on me, all right? Gotta be sure you're still with me. So... I'm gonna need some form of acknowledgement. Okay?" 

He gets his acknowledgement. In the form of a narrow servo tapping him on his nasal ridge. Which... would be cute if not for the circumstances. 

"Yeah, that works. Now, Soundwave- is there something you want me to change right now? Anything I can physically do. Name it." 

 

He would, except he can't figure out what the main problem is.

Yes, he hurts, but something else is  _wrong._ Something to do with Ratchet. It's not the servo on his stomach, that's fine. It's not the medic's voice, he likes that. Ratchet doesn't have claws, doesn't have sharp edges or visible weapons... nothing threatening. Smooth edges, sturdy without being overly threatening... standard medic frame. Not intimidating by anyone's standards, especially not by Soundwave's. 

So... what exactly is the problem here? 

Soundwave clutches Laserbeak closer and lets his optics sweep up Ratchet's frame, once more, still confused- 

And it clicks. 

Every bit of plating on Soundwave's frame clamps down, the spymaster hissing softly and trying to melt into the berth, and he makes an unhappy little growling sound up at Ratchet. Because that's the problem-  _up._ Ratchet is standing over him, looking down at him, one servo on his stomach- and  _that's_ the problem, because he has never in his  _life_ been on his back with someone over him and had it go  _well._ Because that means  _pain,_ means he's been defeated and is at someone else's mercy, mercy which is seldom ever granted- 

Optics widening further, Soundwave whines and braces both servos on Ratchet's arm, digging his claws into the medic's paint and trying to push him away. _No, stop, get away, don't stand over me like this_ , hopefully clear enough in the gesture for Ratchet to understand. It's not the touch- it's the height difference. 

 

"Ah- I get it. Easy- I can work with a different angle." Ratchet mutters, removing his servo for long enough to sit down next to the berth, and moves up a bit to sit beside the spymaster's chassis instead of down by his hips- hopefully much less intimidating. "There we go... let's try this." he declares, reaching over to press on the bleeding area again, and glances up to see how Soundwave is doing. Those bright orange optics are fixed on him rather than on the ceiling, but they're still far too wet, and Soundwave is still panting quietly- a sign of distress in circumstances not involving high heat or significant exertion. The panting is starting to ease, though... that's a good sign. 

"There we go, spook. My bad- I shoulda realized you wouldn't want me standin' over you. Now... you have to be in pain. I have a local anesthetic I can give you, as soon as this bleeding stops. I'm not going to go digging for it because it isn't bad enough to need any attention- your systems will handle it if I keep pressure. After that... getting the right painkillers into you would involve a few different injections, around your stomach and hip, and should last a long time without hindering your movement too badly. You do still need to be careful, the lack of pain does not mean you can move all you want, but I imagine you'd like the pain relief. You think you'd be okay wi' a few needles? Either way, as soon as you stop bleeding we should probably wrap your abdomen up, since you keep insisting on being so damn flexible and pulling things loose. Stay there, keep pressure on with this. 

 

Soundwave relaxes considerably as soon as Ratchet is no longer standing over him, the clinging sensation of  _wrongness_ easing, and chirps very quietly in appreciation. Yes, thank you, that helps very much. More than he wants to admit, honestly, it's such a small thing. But it has apparently been added to his list of things that he is going to have to pretend don't bother him. It's not a good one to have, either- standing over people is a very common intimidation tactic. And, apparently, it is now one that Soundwave is much more vulnerable to. Which is... not something he needs. Urgh. He needs his visor back, and quickly, or he's going to embarrass himself... even more than he already has. Hopefully not in front of Optimus Prime, he's done enough to make himself seem _weak_ in front of a mech he has a good deal of respect for. But there's not much he can do about that right now, aside from venting deeply and trying to calm himself down. 

 And... he doesn't like needles, not at all, but... they're not that bad, and he'd rather be stuck a few times than continue to be in pain. Plus, he has Laserbeak. She's not speaking up at the moment, she's fluttering softly against his chassis and too busy processing information to offer any sort of input, but she's _here_ and  _awake_. Which is about the most soothing thing he's likely to get any time soon. So he accepts the folded bandage that Ratchet presses into his servo, and he holds pressure on the bleeding spot as the medic awkwardly edges away from him. Which looks odd, and confuses him for an instant, before- oh! That's what's going on. Ratchet is trying not to stand up anywhere near him. Which looks a bit odd, and is probably more care than is necessary, but... much as it angers him that any care is needed at all, the consideration feels... good. 

When Ratchet comes back over, Soundwave lifts the bandage and chirrups quietly, pointing out that the spot he'd apparently pulled loose has stopped bleeding.

 

"All right... you wanna try the painkillers? Yes? I got 'em. Just try to relax, and- if you aren't so good with needles, you should probably look at something else. Or- no?" Ratchet mutters, noticing that the spymaster's optics have locked on him, and shrugs slightly. "Or, if you'd rather see everything I'm doing, I can work with that. Just... try not to kick me, and please don't be ashamed to tell me if you want to pause for a few kliks or just outright stop. This shouldn't hurt too much, but I am gonna have to touch you in a few places I'm guessing you'd rather I not. Just... nice, deep vents, Soundwave, and tell me if you want to stop." 

 

Soundwave is absolutely not going to ask Ratchet to stop. He can handle a few needles. Had plenty of practice, after all- practice with pretending, for medics who would absolutely take advantage of his weakness if they knew, that he is absolutely fine with needles. And... Ratchet is correct that looking away usually helps, but he can't shut his optics now because he's quite certain that looking away from where Ratchet's servos are will just make this much, much worse. Because, if he keeps his optics open, it's Ratchet touching him. If he shuts them, it's Megatron. 

So he watches, unblinking, as Ratchet braces a servo against his outer thigh and slips a needle into a gap in his hip plating. His tank clenches unpleasantly at the sight, at the sting of cold metal piercing delicate protoform below his plating where most things can never reach, but he doesn't pull away and he absolutely does not flinch. Not at the burn that follows, either, as the chemical spreads through his hip section. The burn lingers for seconds, though, and then fades... and takes the pain with it. Not everything, but... enough. Enough to be more than worth the creeping unease and the initial pain. 

He's okay with the next, too, up a bit higher and between two claw marks. The next two are across his stomach, placed evenly apart, and then another over his other hip joint. His claws dig slightly into the berth with each initial sting, but that's the only real indication of any distress- it's really not that bad. 

 

"All right, Soundwave... that should get most of your stomach numbed up. Now- I have two more that would mostly numb up your equipment, but it would involve me getting needles into two veins fairly high up on your inner thighs. You think you'd be okay with that, Soundwave?" Ratchet asks, very softly, reaching up to touch Soundwave's lower arm in an attempt at comfort. "I just need you to hold still for a little bit longer, if you can manage that. Think you'll be okay?" he asks, and he doesn't quite trust the shaky nod he gets in return, but... relaxed muscle cables heal better, so he does need to get as much sedative into Soundwave as he can. 

Humming gently, he coaxes Soundwave to lean slightly to one side, then places a servo on his inner thigh with just a slight gap between his fingertips- searching for the vein. The access point is high up, in what is usually an erogenous zone and is uncomfortably close to Soundwave's pelvic panel, so... not somewhere he wants to be touching right now. But it's not exactly avoidable. 

Surprisingly enough, Soundwave actually stays almost perfectly still. His other pede twitches and his claws dig into the berth much deeper than before, but he doesn't move away, and the tears don't start again. So, despite lingering misgivings, Ratchet braces his servo on Soundwave's other thigh for the final injection- 

And hesitates at the  _whimper_ it earns him. 

When he glances up again, Soundwave's optics are shut, and the spymaster is gripping the berth as tightly as he can with both servos. Ratchet doesn't stop, though- he already has the right spot located and the syringe in one servo, so he delivers the injection as quickly as he can, then lets go and edges up to sit right behind Soundwave's chassis instead- stroking his arm in an attempt at offering comfort. "Easy, Soundwave, easy- that's all, I'm done, it's okay. I still want to get your stomach wrapped up, but we're done with sharp things, spook, an' I don't have ta touch anywhere but your stomach for that. An' you can stop tryin' to hold still- you don't have to stay on your back any more, if you don't want to." 

 

Too much. Just... just slightly too much. Soundwave shakes his helm slightly, claws scraping at the berth, and curls onto his side- pressing his thighs together as tightly as he can, holding Laserbeak to his chassis with one arm. No- he doesn't want to stay on his back, not at all, and it is more of a relief than he wants to admit that he can curl up like this. He doesn't pull his arm away from Ratchet, though. The touch is... actually rather appreciated. It's nice enough, unobtrusive, and... definitely not something that belongs in the memories trying to drag him down. Helps. 

He stays like that for a few moments, optics mostly shut, panting very softly in distress, then opens his optics, reaches out, and tugs at Ratchet's arm- trying to coax the medic's servo over to his stomach. He'd like to get everything over with, please, so he can go back to hiding. 

 

Ratchet doesn't move, though. Sits still, rubbing small circles across his arm, and hums softly down at him. "I have you... all right? And I know you probably just wanna get everything over with, and I understand, but... if I keep going, I think it's going to be too much for you. And there is _nothing_ wrong with that, Soundwave, you are allowed to have limits. I am not going to mock you for having a limit to what you can handle, I am not going to take advantage of it... understand? I am just going to... sit here and try to keep from pushing you over that limit. Because... either you crossed it for a moment there, or you were very, very close. So... you stay there, keep venting, and tell me when you think you can handle this rather than just when you want to get it over with. Okay? We have time." 

 

Oh. 

Okay. 

He... he can do that. 

Soundwave curls into himself as much as he can comfortably manage, optics dimming, and... attempts to in-vent deeply. It doesn't quite work, his frame has evidently decided that he ought to be panting, but he tries. Laserbeak is still clutched against his chassis, so, in the interest of relaxing, he focuses everything that he has on  _her,_ nudging her until she finally,  _finally_ docks and the physical connection snaps into place. A soft, shaking croon meets her, and he reaches out for her through their bond, just in time to meet her coming out of a partial reboot. 

Unsurprisingly, he's slapped in the face by  _emotions._

 

Laserbeak has finally woken up enough to process all the input from him, to fully register what happened and who is responsible and where they  _are,_ and, after a forced reboot to get everything to slot into place, everything has hit her at once. 

Her initial response is  _fury._ Blazing, white-hot rage at the  _betrayal,_ at someone  _daring_ to hurt her host. At everything that has ever happened to make him feel like  _this._

Then, well. Then it gets complicated. 

A tangled, shaking mess of what's meant to be entirely  _comfort/reassurance/affection_ but is still shivering with  _anger/h_ _atred_ and more than a little bit of  _fear,_ spilling over the link in response to Soundwave's... well.

 

Soundwave just hurts.

He's relieved that she's awake, and that Ratchet is giving him a break, and the painkillers are starting to soak in deeper, but... 

He hurts. He can't even manage to be angry, can't manage anything resembling ire, just...  _disbelief/betrayal/pain._ That's... that's it. He should probably be angry, Laserbeak's fury seems reasonable, but... it's hers, and hers alone. 

He doesn't try to speak, doesn't try to communicate anything in particular, just strokes her back with one servo and chirps sadly. She can figure out the situation herself. She knows what happened, she can definitely hear Optimus Prime and Agent Fowler continuing their discussion (on current supply needs, still not very relevant to him), and, well- 

The most confusing thing currently here is the fact that Ratchet is sitting next to them, watching them both with soft optics. But Soundwave isn't trying to escape, and Ratchet is gently petting his arm, so... not a threat. Apparently. Just... something he should clarify, maybe? 

_::He is trying to help. And succeeding. Please do not shoot him.::_

 

Laserbeak flickers her wing flaps at Ratchet, then lifts her helm loose of the dock and stares up at the medic, making suspicious noises for him to hear. She is not in the mood to trust anyone. At all. Especially not feared Autobot medics who know where all the important parts are on someone's frame. The petting is strange, though, and- yeah, no, it's difficult to take firm strokes along someone's forearm as anything other than an attempt at reassurance. So, not certain if he can even understand her, she tucks her helm down and mutters //Kill you if you hurt him.// up at the larger mech. 

 

Of course Ratchet understands Laserbeak. Symbiote dialects vary between hosts, but the base structure is usually the same, and Laserbeak isn't one of the ones with the odd speech patterns.

It's not surprising that her first words to him are a threat, either.

"Wouldn't blame you. Don't plan on it, though." Ratchet mutters, then lightly pats Soundwave's arm with one servo, lifting a roll of wide mesh bandages in his other servo. "Looking a bit better, spook. You think you'd be okay wi' this? You don't have to do anything, just... uncurl a bit so I can reach you, and let me lift you slightly so I can get it wrapped under you. After that, we can get some energon into you and you can go back to all the blankets and the not being bothered. Deal?" 

 

Seems doable, so Soundwave nods just slightly and relaxes as much as he can, not resisting as Ratchet lifts him up in order to slip the roll of bandages under him. Ratchet is...  _almost_ alarmingly strong, standard for medic's frames, but it's not being used to hurt or unpleasantly manipulate him. Only being used so he doesn't have to put any strain on sore muscle cables. Again, consideration. He... he likes consideration. This, especially, since it is actually needed and "my stomach region has been recently shredded" is a valid reason to not want to move. 

The bandages are... oddly comforting. Something about the pressure feels nice, and the knowledge that it reduces his chance of bleeding is also a good thing. Soundwave kneads his claws on the berth as Ratchet works, watching skilled servos move gently over his frame, and finds it... calming. Any display of competence is rather nice, but this... especially so. Competence being used to assist him is always pleasant. And... it's been a very long time since he's had a medic who doesn't either unnerve him or make him want to smack them. He doesn't want to smack Ratchet, and he's... not unnerved?

Aware that Ratchet could kill him in quite a few different ways, yes, but that goes for most people he's around on a regular basis. Only the deadly people are still alive. Ratchet doesn't have any motivation to kill him, and is putting too much effort into calming him and easing his pain to be intending any sort of torture. Potential for harm doesn't matter as much as incentive to harm, and Ratchet has no incentive. 

...right? 

 

Given that his patient is unusually flexible and will probably be prone to twisting in odd ways, Ratchet wraps Soundwave's entire abdomen in the wide strips of mesh, covering every bit of exposed protoform just to be sure. He has to lean over Soundwave a bit to reach, but that doesn't seem to be a problem- the spymaster is still looking up at him, petting Laserbeak, and is- hm. His optics are still overly damp, and every now and then a blink dislodges a tear, but he's not really crying. Mildly upset, but stable. 

"There we go. You leave that on, understand? You can tell me if you want it off for any reason, but, for now, you need to keep it where it is. It doesn't hold water terribly well, so you can shower with that on if you'd like, but-" 

He's interrupted by a set of claws digging into his arm plating. Ow.

 

Soundwave starts to push himself into a sitting position as soon as Ratchet is done, but stops that effort in favor of grabbing Ratchet's attention (and arm) at the possibility of a shower. Yes. Please. He doesn't let go, either- in fact, he digs his claws in as much as he can casually manage, leaving small puncture marks with his clawtips. And, despite what's left of his pride, he doesn't try to hide the _desperation_ in his optics. He'd forgotten until now how much he wants a shower, but- yes. 

 

"Okay, okay- easy. We'll get you a shower. Sit up nice and slow, now- you probably shouldn't be walking after runnin' in here pullin' on everything, so we are gonna have to figure out a comfortable way for me to carry y-" Ratchet begins, carefully not pulling his arm away, and is cut off again by, well- 

Miko would call it a hug. 

It's more like Soundwave somehow hopping from the berth to Ratchet, data-cables unfurling to wrap tightly around his frame as the spymaster attempts to just cling to him again. Which works well enough when sitting, but... maybe not so much when he has to stand up. 

"So I'm wearin' you again, then? All right. You don't weigh much. Just- lemme have my arm back?" Ratchet mutters, hooking said arm under Soundwave's legs to add a bit more support as soon as it's free, and waits until Soundwave feels relatively settled. Both legs tucked under Ratchet's arm, one arm hooked over Ratchet's shoulder, data-cables around Ratchet's chassis to provide the majority of the support. He has a spymaster draped over his backpack, but it's secure enough, and probably more comfortable for Soundwave than anything else. 

It's just a bit difficult to stand up like this. 

And he's quite certain Laserbeak is cackling at him. 


End file.
